Before the storm

A branch of tree falls and we look at back at the time , when the tree was complete.

but who says the tree is incomplete now.

Now that there is a storm, there is a memory of breeze.

the rain is here for me it embraces everyone without asking for anything back.

Now I look at the sky and it reminds me that it was blue.

The storm is just the way it is, it hurts everyone, even though it never meant to.