When the curtains were drawn
And the windows opened
The cool breeze had to move through
Holes in the weave
The touch of the oscillating
Bells of the beaming shells
Melted the frozen
Voices trapped in the room
Now we can hear
The unsaid stories
Of the time
When breeze didn’t have to
Be filtered
And bells could toll
Regardless
Dehydrated roots
Moss didn’t resist
The sunrays drying the rocks
Dehydrated roots
A promise to bloom
Could not persuade algae
To persist with its path
The cloudburst
Has decided
What neither moss
Nor rock
Could resolve so far
Will o cloud
You burst again
And demolish all my defences
So that I could accept the truth