Dark clouds roll over the earth

As pitch as black envelopes the atmosphere

Heavy rainfall pelting down

The old crying sky weeps aloud

There is a symphony to the sound

Humming a melodic tune abound

There’s the romantic blues in her fall

Melancholic thoughts are recalled

Of all the tears I have ever cried

The sky my martyred substitute

Weeping loudly open-eyed

by Susmita Mukherjee