in Life, Lyric


“…like the desert misses the rain…”

A friend mentioned this.
Later, i give the sentence a thought. Does the desert really miss the rain? What if the desert actually hate the rain, and that’s why the rain never come? Or, probably, its soul mate is not the rain, but the wind and the sun? It has already found two of it’s finest mates, and lovers. Should the desert miss the rain then?

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