The Downpour

The season’s first rain,

In an attempt to wash away my pain,

Forgets that it cannot uproot the real villain,

The one that’s settled- in, deep within.

The one who over-powers my brain,

Who’s the culprit behind my hidden strain,

Who rejoices my depression,

Who takes pride in my suppression.

Naturally found as the hand behind every cardiac arrest,

The mastermind behind every failed test,

One that paranormally transforms a human into a barbarian,

And compels us to redefine the word- ‘humanitarian’.

It just oozes the concentration out of me,

And distracts me till I’m no more the same ‘ME’,

And commands me in a soothing manner,

To destroy my precious time with confidence- powered valour.

So I wish the first shower to be a bit stronger,

And drench this evil scandal-monger,

And subdue its ego, its darkness,

And purify its crust and core,

So that I could taste freedom in the seasonal downpour.

-Disha Wahi