Clouds...

When I see the sky in the morning rains,
Its a shade of grey and a smearing paint,
Lots of shades are flowing around,
All of them are say blue, black and white sound.
Through the haziness of the clouds I do see,
The softly shining sun and its rays in the gray sea,
Rain drops like a showers of pointed arrows,
I love the rains or do I hate them still I dont know.
Making the grass green wherever it likes,
Uprooting the trees when its fury strikes,
The sky still remains the same palette of shades,
Beneath it lies the heart unknown in various states.
What is the aim is unknown to one and all,
Its all masked beneath the great facade of clouds,
Shades of varying degrees mask the sea of emotions,
All what I see is the dull and dusky coulds,
Is it the morning rains or the evening shroud...