MUSHROOM

I didn’t know the weather, at velocity of unwavering wind
Drooping towards my paranoic senses, astutely,
Thru murmurs of cold rain poured in a few punctuations;
It pulled waves at the stature of someone’s last tear drop.
By then, the august firmament lost a temper
Following the flight of trees in visitors’ shrill
And I could’nt cope up with the lightning much
Shivered, torn and swallowed by the sudden annihilation; even
A walk on riverside would crumble humanity.
After that, rustic brook once flowed in bravery
Gathered delicate mosses; stones were seldom inundated
Instead, they announced the approval of colossal sunset.
I kept forgetting the brook song at urbane luxury while
Electric degeneration prevailed in a loud premonition;
Insomniac nights travelled on prosaic floor
At approximate dissolution of proverbial moon
Until the memory halted near an intellectual bar
Disregarding conventional highways at sardonic rain.
Life don’t inhale the quasi-heavens, sometimes.