Streaking across my window pane,
comet like trickles of the summer rain...
Hedonism invites you with thunder claps
come play with me now, it's a free-spirited game!
Blurred visions flood a smokescreen-ish terrain,
Furtive glances coyly court each other in shame.
Cottony clouds manoeuvre their freshly ploughed lanes
Happiness is a mirage, in the dark desert of fame.
Now searching, now longing...
lost, weatherbeaten, but always untamed...
A soulful outpouring this, of suppressed emotion...
the monsoon is here...in celebration of pain!
--- Mark.
