On a cloudy day such
If I want to touch...
your folklore laden hair just
Before moving away...
To the cloudy gray...
Am I asking from you much?
On a day cloudy such
If memories of you emerge
One by one like leaves on tremble
Waiting eagerly for the tempestuous rain...
Am I asking for much-
Imploring you to touch
The deepest of my existence
Now left bare...unfenced?
If the sky is herself so wet
With possiblities of rain...
If the day is so poetically spread...
Why my pleadings should go in vain?
If the trees are also pining hard...
Seeking wetness for their unborn buds...
Why you me deny
A bit of moisture from your dreamy eyes?
Why you ask me to hold
back my sense of being bold?
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