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Black Sky
The sky is not blue,
Nor grey, or red.
Illusion is the reason,
Though not an explanation.
Summer blue sky, betrays life,
Taking droplets of hope,
Away from thirsty, tender, throats.
Setting Sun colours his background red.
Red! Romantic to some,
Scorching to many.
Prayers in summer,
Sprout grey clouds in June.
Gone are the days of relishing,
For grey is now a symbol of disasters.
White clouds! The messengers of peace,
Calm and serene,
Yet not everlasting,
Like mother's love.
See, the night sky!
Wearing mourning black.
See the stars, the changing Moon!
For that,the black sky, needs to bloom.
-Anjali Krishnan
© Anjali Krishnan
Nor grey, or red.
Illusion is the reason,
Though not an explanation.
Summer blue sky, betrays life,
Taking droplets of hope,
Away from thirsty, tender, throats.
Setting Sun colours his background red.
Red! Romantic to some,
Scorching to many.
Prayers in summer,
Sprout grey clouds in June.
Gone are the days of relishing,
For grey is now a symbol of disasters.
White clouds! The messengers of peace,
Calm and serene,
Yet not everlasting,
Like mother's love.
See, the night sky!
Wearing mourning black.
See the stars, the changing Moon!
For that,the black sky, needs to bloom.
-Anjali Krishnan
© Anjali Krishnan
