There was this oddly satisfying breeze hovering
by my window, that night.
Not too heavy, not too cold,
But just as my body's old.
The curtains were yet to kiss my nose,
I can sniff the wetness of the freshly shallow rain,
(that might just come to vain.)
I was not alone, that night,
Accompanied by my tick'ing clock,
with its every degree, chasing me,
Running,
Overtaking,
I may not kiss back the rains.
Darkness, i see.
Tick tock, ti... to...
I hear something,
Resonating.
(Do you hear that, too?)
With the footsteps, carrying me,
Carrying time.
I could not kiss back the rains, that night.
I did not kiss back the rains, that night.

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