Droplets hammering on the ceiling,
challenging me to get out.
And their music, sweeter than ‘Last Kiss’,
and singing melodies from Byzantine.
Dragging me out and soaking all
within me and trying to wash all
of that is in me and bringing in
the warmth buried deep in me.
In between the time, rain drops
touched me, the I in me felt
the you in me. And the drops
hitting me, cleansed the I in me.
The downpour subsided leaving
me and the world drenched.
Yet, the fire kept burning,
still the I in me kept walking.
They kept bombarding,
and the soul kept drenching.