Dusk in his windowsill,
Coffee decanted; goblet filled.
Solitude – a spell of addiction.
Leaving behind sophistication.

Suddenly, heaven gobbled its pride
Took peril and cried.
He dropped the cup on the floor,
Then hurried to the door.

He hoisted his palm to wipe heaven’s eyes,
To recoup those spreading azure skies;
He cupped his hand to his heart,
To absorb those drizzling miseries…marred.

Hitherto, the rain slid down,
Making hopes drown.
He caught the rain,
But it slid straight down to the drain.