trade my belongings for that summer rain
when we played innocently on the terrace
each rain drop a contradiction to the smiles
each laughter louder than the raging clouds
the chairs were used as imaginary walls
or as palaces to pretend and play
dirty hands and clean souls
making animals out of clay
i had only the summer holidays on my mind
now lost like innocence in time
the silence in my room is alien to me
grasping for the days of past
and with each passing moment my eyes can see
the reality of what truly lasts.
मंच 