The little beads above the brow join hands with one another...
A 'rivulet' then runs across the cheek;
The mercury soars - you are soon 'immersed',
And yet, the throat runs dry just as you speak.
The gigantic, mighty orb glares back at us - merciless!
The customary tie becomes a strangling, lethal noose...
Surely the angered Gods have declared a war upon us!
What 'sacrifice' will facilitate a truce?
Whilst the mind and body search for a shelter, for an oasis,
The soul cries out in pain, in dire thirst!
The occasional breeze assures us that help is on its way,
But the Sun says we must pay for our sins first...
5 comments:
Lines well writ, with sweat running streams
We definitely need forgiveness, our parched throats scream.
@ arka:
thanks for the feedback...
well, this evening, for a while, our prayers were heard - that was quite a storm! hope tomorrow is a little less scorching...
"The noise of life begins again,
And ghastly through the drizzling rain,
On the bald street breaks the blank day"......Tennyson
@ paromita: nice quote... very apt... thanks... :-)
meanwhile, the heat seems to be back with a vengeance... :-(
sterling as always ... way to go!!
Post a Comment