Raindrops slide down the window panes, each one tracing a path of its own, like the quiet tears of the sky. The wind blathers through the night, amplifying my loneliness, carrying with it erratic illusions of those who have gone away. Unsung words and elegiac feelings haunt me, lingering like faint echoes in the corners of my mind. All around me swirl apprehensions, the heavy weight of illusions, tangled with the raw edges of my torn emotions.
“Nay! Rain! Don’t touch my veins!” I cry, as the downpour seems to mirror the chaos within. For I am a city laid to waste, my hopes faded like abandoned ruins. Expectations have been buried deep within, hidden beneath the rubble of past lives, leaving me a grave of forgotten deeds. Here, in this darkened place, dreams remain ethereal, ghostly remnants of a life that could have been.
The tears of the sky fall upon me, drenching my soul in their cold embrace. A cryptic, depraved laughter of thunder echoes in the distance, a mocking, yet comforting sound in its desolation. Darkness and loneliness wrap themselves around me like a heavy cloak, suffocating in its stillness. I am but a vagrant, adrift on the coast of a tempestuous sea, with no safe harbor in sight. There is no anchorage of bliss or light to guide me, only the endless waves of melancholy.