Next to the flickering candle

He sat in the darkest of hours

But lo and behold in his thoughts

The Sun was shadowing the stars

It blazed and it burned

As the clouds cried the night out

Scenes of red and orange his mind churned

Thunder was the only sound around

Pit-pat, the water had risen an inch

Drip-drop, the tarmac was pleading

At lightning, he didn’t even flinch

The sands in the desert were bleeding

Page after page he sped through

Just below the silvery moon

Tales of war he had read few

And right now…he was in the middle of a scorching monsoon!