DrenchedThe month of June,
When every year people should sing in tune
Turned out to be raining day and night
And the heat that was building up right,
Turned mornings in steaming gasps
And afternoons in storms that feel like wasps.
That month of June,
Did not promise anything finetuned,
Turned out hopes and freights
And reshuffled plans left and right.
Our month of June,
Changed all our music lines, rendered immunes
Shifted our plans, flatted out the deserted dunes,
Of our young lives, of our drives.
This month of June;
Will remember to never sing in tune, to break
Our echo chambers, atune.
And in a swirl of Myst,
Will confine our rest in discs, for later use.
Qwarkyl
22/06/2024
While listening to Sudden Shower - Eclypse
