Happiness seems to awake our senses in many ways, like a delighted child feeling the heavy rain drops, dripping carefully like the blooming of a flower at midnight.

Untill two clouds are hit rumbling down streaks of envisioned fire, the peace falters and the storms arrives through the crevices of nature we still haven't found, but desire.

We slowly crawl out of our comfortable beds to peek through the window, to witness the scattering of a thousand leaves gathered, now swimming through the small streams they've made, canoeing through rocks despite the difficulty they've now faced.

Then we lie face down, bringing our knees to our chests feeling the thud, thinking about all the sorrows in depth

Consuming ourselves with thoughts ,plunging our happy days to debt.

How many times have we regreted the thought of our inability to do what our heart wants to, rather we blindly let it off without searching for a path we crave?

The wind hustle by and crawls beneath the walls, echoes trembles yet we'd rather forget than try untill our hands feel raw.

Trust, we have none on ourselves.

How would we believe in a sunrise untill we'd try hard and wake up for it.

How carelessly we expect of the things, we don't put our hearts at.

Slowly, when we shall pave the clouds, cluttered on the path we're unaware of, it is then the sun shall glitter bright

And the storm shall reside within the creaks of broken windows

Untill the next time we face a plight

~A