As the rain touches the dry earth, I smell freedom from this bitter sweet symphony of life.
Laughter fills the air with memories pouring down, each time a new trip.
Words speaking with a rhythm, thoughts dancing with flare.
Caught up in the time trap, where ten becomes nine.
The mind on strike and hunger playing games.
Running with a speed of impatience.
Losing track ahead.
I bid adieu.
P.S: Now try reading it starting from the last line to the first.