These days the stars don’t shine, like back in the day.
And I need wine to mediate the silence.
Even the tequila is not enough to satiate the thrist.
The thrust of Love, pain & betrayal.

It’s strange to feel; how rain emerges out of pain
and fragrances so strange all around us.
You are not an object or else,
you're rather an abstract, that tread here and there.

Original poetry by Hive account@praxantp