Droplets of water,

scattered all around,

like a million little planets,

hurtling to the ground.


Crashing into rivers,

and mountains, and seas;

falling through space

like a million little peas.


Tickling your spine

like sensual sweat;

Petrichor in your lungs

now making you wet.


Pelting the poor

and the rich, the same.

Flooding the battlefield

and the church, in their game.


Hiding your darkness

and solitary fears.

Washing away,

your filth and your tears.


Falling on roses,

some white and some black.

Casting their shadows

and drowning the shacks.


Lining the skies

like infinite little scars.

Scattering the sunlight

these million, little stars.


By: Viraj Belgaonkar


Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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