Incessant perspiration marks the body, Mind seems desolate, barren, Feelings appear to dry up Leaving the milieu deserted, lonely.
Breeze, standstill and numb, Boughs no longer bow with delight, Flowers abandon the branches, As if migrating to some other continent. Neither twitter, nor chirrup, Singing of the birds has ceased, Trees’ whispering has stopped Loneliness in the air. Silent and stagnant night, Arid and tepid of emotions, Burns slowly, bit by bit, Lustre oozes out hastily. In the scorching sea of sentiments This scary summer, If anything comes as a fresh gentle wind, It’s your thought!