The storm lashed through my city today.
The heat of the moment, building up
Between the Earth and Sky, lovelorn.
It poured as though the Sky was in a hurry
To meet the Earth in petrichor
Thirsty, lashing through the scopes.
In a loud, rebellious protest
The storm marched along the concrete streets
Like a knight invading a city
Claiming what is his.
Does the storm take a port of the
Earth with him to the Sky?
Does the Sky wash away her pain?
Wanderer as the heart is, never fixed to a place,
Why does she then wait for him this way?
© Suranya
