P/s: It's raining here, so I wrote this for my babies, sekai.

♡♡

Everything becomes nostalgic—
Always, every time the rain pitter pattered the roof, 
And the thoughts of you resurface in the sea of my mind. 

To the cloudy sky above I whisper;
What color has it actually painted whenever its beads of tears pad the ground? 
For the wind has brought the warmth that screams a great pleasure,
Grey shouldn't have been a color of the rain. 

Has it been the petrichor that emanated from the dry soil—
Or the drops of drizzle that caused the contentment to bud? 
As far as I had remembered,
It's never distressing.
Just like how your thin smile carved only for me, 
That's, too, how it's eased and put the pain to die deep within. 
—Jane l.