Untitled

The fatigued sunrays are broken to millions of fragments as it enters the rooms through the mesh covering the window. The war domain is being equally shared by the bruised clouds and the deflated sun. Droplets of pure silver hang on to the black thick cables as last reminders of the rain that just passed by. The heavy droplets hanging to dear life for the sun shall pardon no soul. Greener the leaves appear after being washed off the soot and dust from every man made creation. With the whiff of zephyr every branch enchantingly sways to the melody. No soul untouched by the heavenly rain. Ask the little pink bud and cheeringly she displays her blush on getting drenched. Ask the smacking mud and with childish lisp it will show its stickiness on being wet. Ask the leaf and with great pomp it will flaunt its shiny green surface. Ask a child and with renewed zest it will claim how much he wishes to get drenches. Ask a man and with a smirk on his face he will complain about how pending things he has.The battles is on, the greys against the yellows fight for the expanse.