He gazed at the morning sky.
He searched for a hint of hope. Nothing.
He kept staring without blinking his eyes.
He scanned clouds and smelled the melancholic air.
He looked down at his feet, running shoes; white and ragged.
Again, he gazed at the sky.
Two hours later, sun will be at its highest altitude.
It was late, but where was the sun?
Will it ever rise? Will it rain? Or Will it bring death?
Sun was hidden in the grieving sky, somewhere. Somewhere far, very far.
Its not visible, but it is. Somewhere.
He stretched his arms.
The clouds will not hide him forever. Neither they can.
The sun is set to rise, someday.
He looked up, then down and then at the hill top.
He shut his eyes, and ran.
The sun will rise, not above the gloomy clouds, but beneath them.
The sun is set to Rise.