I stared out of the window for hours,

 Eagerly waiting for a revelation,

 So, I could fill the blank pages of the book,

 With my vibrant words,

 I watched the clouds laden with mist and memories,

 Pour kindly over the sleeping city,

Unleashing a myriad of whimsical thoughts,

Over my barren mind,

I set out to amble down the street,

To witness the world breath

Darkness floods the city of gardens and dreams,

As the sun is stifled by a billow of clouds,

I see the birds retreating into their nests,

And the leaves drenched in the nectar of ecstasy,

I stop to smell the redolent damasks,

Looming over the century-old bistro,

The city is submerged in mirth and misery as it pours,

I hear the playful giggles of children I walk past strangers,

Some looking for an epiphany,

And some awed by the grandeur that the rain paints,

This city truly comes alive when it rains,

I love the way the flowers sway with the wind,

The song of the gentle rain makes me want to sing,

I walk through the winding lanes of the sleeping city,

Hoping to walk into my muse someday,

But I guess my wait doesn’t end here today,

So, I’ll just crawl back into my castle of dreams,

And write about the wind and the rain,

Or perhaps turn the sleeping city into my muse,

On this rainy day…

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