As the sky opens its gates
In shuddering perplexity
from the far horizon, appears a veiled sparkling ball
covered in the trembling dawn twilight
Horizons simmer
And silence of hills still restless souls For amidst a purple winter mist Clouds of sorrow, and loathe
fill dry fields
Yet, shadows of giant trees
tower over the susceptible, empty ridge
Sombrely, the flashing yellow sun struggles
to penetrate a dark silhouette of giant forlorn trees tucked under the flood of foggy winter
Guiltily, the ridges stand in awe Sipping sorrow under nature’s horror With echoes of the eloquence of pain Penetrating through patched torn hills
Quiet mountains blushingly lay
Through dark, foggy yards on a winter dawn
As nature struggles against itself
Still, barking in silence, rippling the peaceful ridges
Amidst a rumbling doom
Monsoons in the purple sky sweep, to distances unknown
That, silent dry fields get draped, and torn
That upon itself, nature turns to mourn
At the dewdrops blown and dried
By a rogue faint Sun in the misty dawn!
©Ekabaka®
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