Eluded by the clouds, for what will be has come in its season. Entrapped in four walls of what none can be released from except time be reversed. 
The darkness is brought by it and hope is raised that it would last for the night and light would come in d morning. Flowing rivers get filled, a time to reminisce, to make love and enjoy the moments…
When caught up in the hour a thousand drops will thy fate be drenched in, washed away as much as agony is never the best bet. Cold, wet and no one’s bosom to run into.

The awaited hour has come again and it goes but leaves its mark on all. For its presence is impressed and always felt. All eyes look ahead as it leaves but no one can anticipate its return. Until that moment when its moist is smelt a thousand miles away again.