A walk in the rain to clear my head,
to drown the words ever written or read,
to silence the screams and dreams now dead,
to bathe the skeletons from my closet in red.
A walk in the rain alone with my thoughts,
of the rot from diseases of lust I have caught,
of hunger and pain and anger in frost,
of love and lies and the battles now lost.
A walk in the rain, cold and wet,
with shivers from climaxing raindrops I get,
in the grey-ness of life that has sunk in and set,
to break away from the monotony of an existence I let, control me.
A walk in the rain with the songs of the past,
flashes of thunder, the heavens outcast,
with a shattering droplet and its millionth piece,
like a fragment of starlight, broken, at peace.
By: Viraj Belgaonkar