The flowers underneath the flowing trees were withering,
Losing their exquisite colors.
The sun took its final breath,
As rain began to descend from the dusty sky.
The colors of the world were washed away,
Like a crushing wave colliding with the grainy sand.
Now replaced with a monochrome planet.
Life loses focus,
like a photographer with bokeh lights.
The fog rises up from the once-painted sky,
filtering my surroundings white.
The world seemed to be spinning fast,
Although I was merely standing my ground.
Is this reality?
The feeling of despair.
Like an old man waiting for his ever-so family to visit him on a dark night,
Slowly losing hope that they would ever show up.
Serendipity no longer there.
The feeling of loneliness.
Hiding in the darkness, dejected.
Peculiar as it is, the world seems not to notice the feeling.
The serene night was rushing.
The tranquil sound of the crickets filled my ears, echoing through my mind.
Trees were rustling with disturbance as the sprinkling rain formed to a vigorous shower.
As the dusk turned to nightfall.
And as thoughts turned into puzzles I couldn't fathom.
"Perfect, Perfect, perfect."
Words repeating like a ferris wheel on the sea-side of an imperishable beach.
Words go unspoken.
Lips move,
No sound.
The rain ceased.
Damp puddles were evolving.
The melody of the screaming wind was no longer there.
Colors of red and yellow presented themselves again,
The flowers accepting the sun with alacrity.
Exhilarating air filled my senses,
Like a fresh bakery on the corner of a vast city.
It was a feeling of euphoria,
Fond of the sentimental music of the birds.
The sky flushed back to its natural, aesthetic colors,
Hues of purple and red filling the atmosphere, an artist painted the sky.
Scenic trees swaying in the morning glory.
Dewdrops on the tips of leaves.
Thoughts rushing like a running river; an astronaut lost in space.
Elated at the sight of the sun.
Confidence rushing back to me.
The days became better, time started ticking again.
Because the Sun will always rise again.
