Air is and always
Deprived of the rains,
There are showers,
Only flooded with pains.

The soft shaded rainbows
Have no pinky zest,
Dusty and stormy air,
Is always at its best.

Innocence is crouched
With bloody stains of terror,
Prayers are embellished,
With words following clamour.

Destinies are fired
By songs of the dead,
Wailing and choiring,
The gray hearts of lead.

But the days will brighten
And the pains will sing,
Breaking the silence,
And lead to sweet things.

Some secrecy will work
In the depths of oceans,
Soon it will burst out,
Into great miraculous motions.

A day can be seen
With evil shadows lessening,
And casting everywhere,
The lights of dewy blessings.

Hope u people like my new poem