The beeeze has always played tricks on me, I can never trust,

Now It blows in when the land is hot, as a respite for the scorched soul;
Then it brings in the cold, makes us shiver, like a cruel self-realization;
It blows in the wet when the rain has not stopped, like a mischievous hand caressing the soul;
And at times it blows in with dry air from the inland, like a guardian wiping the tears away of the little child;
It sways me, it moves me , it comes to me when no one does, and we talk for hours as if it means a lot;
And then one day you walk into my life, like a beeeze, like a respite, like the caring hand, waiting to be touched, my heart skipped a beat, I raised my hand, and then I had my doubt,

The beeeze has always played tricks on me, can I ever trust…