It still pours..
Rain and it's smell
A few strands of my wet hair
Sticks to me as if it's soul depends on me
The music being the blanket
Covers my thoughts in place
Distant sound of chattering..
My eyes search for the origin of rain
But the black angry clouds are hollow
They are not letting me see pass through..
It still pours!
It still holds me captive with their sound..
It still pours!
It still bags my endless thoughts..
Rain and me and night..
Fits into canvas but dark one!

© HR