• pseudosurrealist 30w

    The soul and he

    A lonely man behind the still window and a soul all alone in the sky
    Looks out into the storm
    The spray paint strokes of water colour
    Captivates their imagination
    It slowly gathers the pieces
    Which were wandering for long
    And he begins to pen down anecdotes
    To later conjure a song
    He writes in the sky, with winds in his fingers
    He writes on vapours where you find your lining
    Meanwhile it dances with the leaves, flows with the breeze
    And pours into his face with what you call raining