Rains have been melting these days

Churning figures out of smoke

Dreams; crippled lay moaning by the stumps

In those destitute dwarf woods of luck

But I am still not shaken, nor breathed my last

And somehow still not impressed,

By the sun pouring its wrath

Rejections have not faded off my chest

People still talk of my fallen crest

Seems there is more from falling stars to ask

Than years to twinkle, and moments to last

No the world hasn’t seen my best

And I am in no hurry to shade my rest,

As, I lay on the hiatus of thoughts

And pray clouds to end the drought