Semblance

As I walked past the uncut lawns on

One hazy dawn of a Gulmohar summer,

I faintly remembered

The moon surfaced savannah,

My devastated field of dreams.

As a dewy prisoner escaped its leafy gallows,

Crashing down on to the craters,

My cheeks anticipated rain,

I couldn’t tell if it was my sweat,

The saline-sweet nectar of burning eyes,

Or the cold clouds had come calling,

After the fiery summer sun

Had set ablaze the vermilion foliage,

The semblance of my dreams;

It parched my throat and

Burnt my skin,

I was spent, soaked and tired

Grazing the brazen land

Searching for the elixir of life;

An oasis of pleasant pain or

Another mirage of true despair?

Perhaps, it was just the rain.