The breeze tousles the leaves
Of the tree as if it cannot
Stand stillness when it is astir
The sun makes up for its absence
During the rainy days and rains heat
But we are used to this tyrant
And take his treatment with a smile
The rain feels better just for this
As also the misty months
That feel holy without fervour
Nothing fazes us anymore
After all the heat and cold we faced
We wouldn't mind if death is cold too.
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