Who cares whether rains have ever descended there again
The pregnant clouds might have refrained to crawl down
Easterlies have stopped bringing with them the flock of birds
Showers of heavy rains no more lashes about the face
The slap of winds might have levelled our built sandcastles
I doubt if flowers have ever bloomed in gardens in last few years
For me, death has enveloped everything the day you played the final hide and seek
Now you are hiding your face in indefinite darkness and don’t know what I will seek.