Curled up with my book,
My thoughts race back in time,
To the time I was held by a hook,
A hook which I believed was bliss supreme.
So naive I was, and naive I still am…
To have believed life had bestowed upon me a gift.
Only to now feel like a dam,
Torn down by deceit.
The dam trusted in its maker,
And so did I…
Only to learn better,
That ‘trust’ is a word destined to die.
As I sunk in this negativity,
I heard the pitter and patter
Of the rain, trying to do its duty,
Trying to remove my minds 'clutter'.
Through the window, I opened up
To the first rain of the season…
I stood there numb,
Trying to reason with reasons…
I know not why, I know not how…
But I know now that for sure it is…
Am a fool and there was no love,
And definitely no ‘good wish’..
As the rain grows fierce,
The thunder and lightening within
Does not seem to cease,
And all my questions seem thrown into the bin..
‘Why are there no answers,
But only empty faces?
Why have I no answers,
Just some more blank questions?’
Like the first shower,
Trying to beat the heat,
I too want it all over
And have my life laid out neat.
The rain seems like noise...
When all I want is a voice…
A voice to tell me, am cared for,
A voice to give me the reason to live for.
