Now how was I to save rain for sunny days?
To crush its vigor and melt the scent?
This knowledge within my veins is purpose-like,
I belong to the rain season, all right.
My leafy limbs and flowery moves
Are solid proof of my allegiance.
Yet, one little greenish fiber
Pulsates for the sun in you,
Yearning to bathe in the light
And mature in the haze.
Still, nature fails to abide my heart
And undo my essence.
I am clad in my heavy dew choices,
Dryness undresses my spirit
Bareness is the disease of my self.
Mind you, this is no pleading weather forecast.
I grant the genius of your plan,
But still you will not find any backers here,
In the wet season.