Here, again, in this empty room I stand,
With peeping rain shattering on the sand;
A cherished past in my own hands
The mighty thunder’s face smiling at me
How it satisfies this longing irony.
Alone on this comforting empty room,
The chilly breeze seeks recognition ‘Do you remember me.?’
Like a long-lost friend awaiting remembrance of her identity.
How could such serenity be present amongst you and me,
Putting into shame God’s own divine heaven.
Then I open my eyes, I realise,
I’m stitched to daily conformity.