When the clouds overpower the night,

to the full moon’s despair.

The heavenly moonbeams cease being bright,

the night’s dark as your hair.

When in between the clocks’ chime,

silence beats its drum.

As I write a solitary rhyme,

and a  rush of words come.

When the words rustle no more,

but the work is still not done.

I gaze at the open door,

hoping you’ll come.

Twittering out in the night,

the birds of my thoughts flee.

I’m emptied of all my dreams,

and I only wish for you with me.

~Rachit~