And The Rain Is Falling

Melancholy Poetry



I sit on my desk, the rain is falling,
an open window, thoughts are coming,
passing by like train in fields of flowers,
like night in day, it’s light in darkest hours…
it’s here and it’s there, close and far away,
my story, my life, my dreams are so astray,
as if I linger in a body dead, so lifeless,
but a body full of torment, full of passions,
can’t remember all the mornings, all the hope,
when a sun that’s stronger than a mountain slope,
is rising, trying to breach the gloom of night
and save us from the fear and pain so tight,
when time feels to be timeless,
and eternity that’s full of endings…

Don’t expect me to be truthful,
here was my lie, my art in rhymes.
Remember? I was only sitting on a desk,
my desk, and the rain was falling, a caress
from Gods, a blessing, pure wonder…

And I sit on my desk, and the rain is falling.



photograph by Thanun Baranapong


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