Author: Rashi Soni, Class VII F
Like stones hurled at the earth,
The rain rushes down in torrents,
The winds blowing out the only warm hearth,
Bringing in the cold.
Coming down with force unbearable,
The wind playing along,
Whistling through the trees,
The tender branches bending.
Like a playing song,
The force rising and falling,
Playing sometime and stopping the rest,
Making a racket.
Grey clouds covering the sky,
Seems as if the sky is crying with me,
But the rain of sorrow will end,
Bringing happiness in.
