Waking up from the deep slumber of life,
Fading dreams of fields lush green and the wind
Blowing sweet with smells of a distant rain
And with soft reminiscences are gone.
The sodden world is being painted with the sun
Still half asleep and the early birds too
From their half woven dreams are waking up
All chirping with a fresh hunger for life.
Those large and hideous blocks of painted stones,
Dull and gray and the winding roads remain
Of the happy world just awhile ago
Lying smitten now with untimely rain.