Petrichor

The patter of rain and as the petrichor form,

I lay gazing outside romancing the storm.

Riveting upon the window, the drops of water cried,

I come from a broken home where thunder and lightning collide.

The nimbus broke under throes of anxiety,

The ever present pressure of conforming in a society.

Soon more clouds joined the outcry and broke the silence.

They all sought justice from earth to put an end to the violence.

The rising mercury between the elements fizzled,

As earth welcomed rain with arms wide open and once again it was all a pleasant drizzle.