M O R O N!
I fill up my days with several chores,
Get zombied by the thunderous roars;
Nope, not yours.
The Rain washes off the muck,
Each and every time.
It renews, it loves, it spares lives.
The skeleton of a burnt tree,
In black and white photographs, I see;
Terrible, beautiful, painful art,
Never fails to give me a start.
Yet, amidst the cozy dignity, passion for free,
I yearn, I turn, I see thee.
