Rains Well Up
Behind The Dark Clouds.
A pent-up Torpor reigns
Things Blocked,broken ,Held up
Rusty swings, Unending queues and Traffic Jams
Dams Of Sweat Break loose.
Sucking Energy
Faster than
Quicksand
The Ripe Monsoon Air
Hangs like a Sigh .
A Desperation
That can not Cry.
Let us not Notice
And turn the Airconditioning High.
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