Monsoon makes me sad and lonely
In the end, there is none to hold me
Dried leaves, beckon in the night
Pleads with a siren song in mind

Why can’t we step ahead of all?
Why so ingenuine-pity remorse
All I see is the emptiness
Erupting from most unwelcome shores


Our souls redirecting towards mighty hands
From where our lives bespoke, or
Dwelling in the past maybe
Isn't it funny? We all just die

Dense soil mattress covering our lands
Where saplings leaped and twirled
While some say we live to procreate
Where do you think the Last Hurrah is?

I cry from the depths of solitude
I’m just in control here
Healing my wounds and praising redemption!
Nature holds me in her cruel embrace…
© Anamika U S