In the midst of this battle with being
unmindful and trapped in oblivion,
I just sit tight for the summer to pass soon
while sweating it out, waiting for monsoon.

And now that it's here in June,
I break free from my cocoon,
I sneak out of my room
with an ice cream and a maroon spoon.

I sit under the serene moon,
locked up in an unseen booth
reminiscing my deceptive youth,
much of spilled ink and little colourful hues.

As I play my favourite tune by Typhoon,
I sink in the sorrow of tomorrow,
despising myself for what I have become
as I don't know where this all had begun.

I come into my senses as the song ends, and
I notice my ice-cream has melted like a sand dune;
Powerless and unable to complete this poem,
I feel that to forget is truly a boon.

In the midst of this battle with being
unmindful and trapped in oblivion,
I just sit tight for the summer to pass soon
while sweating it out, waiting for monsoon.

And now that it's here in June,
I break free from my cocoon,
I sneak out of my room
with an ice cream and a maroon spoon.

I sit under the serene moon,
locked up in an unseen booth
reminiscing my deceptive youth,
much of spilled ink and little colourful hues.

As I play my favourite tune by Typhoon,
I sink in the sorrow of tomorrow,
despising myself for what I have become
as I don't know where this all had begun.

I come into my senses as the song ends, and
I notice my ice-cream has melted like a sand dune;
Powerless and unable to complete this poem,
I feel that to forget is truly a boon.