The storms would come
the sun won’t shine
the clouds would hound
the stories would undermine.
The shattered souls
would cry through crime
the meaningless tears
would no more shine.
The broken pieces
would spread like slime
and non-mendable trust
shall break in line.
The power of love
would no more whine
the mountains would echo
the waves would combine
The life would be dusted
and nothing would be mine.
All of this,
I didn’t know
Would ever happen,
When I was a child…
-Arsh