One Sunday.
Road is clear.
Clouds are heavy.
Rain is slowly falling.
Once again, she hides herself.
She cuddles herself like a child missing her father's embrace.
Her eyes are sullen.
Her heart, melting as it beats.
One cold Sunday, she wakes up.
The road is clear, she imagines.
The clouds are heavy, she feels.
And the rain--- falling, as she holds them.
Once again, she tries to walk away.
Her heart does the crying not her eyes.
She screams in her whisper.
Then, a deafening silence follows.
One Sunday.
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