The Mystique of Rain

This is a poem I had written for a competition in college... I hope I get the prize :-/

The Mystique of Rain

The Monsoons arrived, earthy, scented,
gently pattering against my window pane,
I fought, I tried, succumbed, relented,
and fell victim, to the mystique of rain.

Diamonds, showered from the heavens above,
is it not strange we search for others underground?
the ones descending are the tears of god,
but the buried ones do us humans hound.

The very essence, spirit of rain charms me,
ensnares me, with its seasonal fall,
its overpowering aroma of earth and sea,
its unique way of purging all.

O' Rain! Oh Mystery of Life!
Subject it is to its whims and pauses,
one year it destroys, bringing hopeless strife,
the very next it blesses, erasing the pain it causes.

God's tears? They may be so,
but are bound with flashes and thunder,
tears of God they are, as they flow,
but of joy or sorrow? I wonder.

The Clock...

Tick Tock Tick Tock,
merrily runs the clock,
heralding, the flow of time,
master of us puppets, in its power sublime.

Tick Tock Tick Tock...

Its control over us, one cannot sway,
tries of dreamers and cowards ended in dismay,
but most, stare at it for a moment, as if to see,
whether the sand still trickles down, ever so free?

In this world,

a few are to be joyful, a few to be glum,
as ordained by the lord, in the times to come,
but WE, of our future know not a sound,
hidden as it is by hands three and a face round...

Tick Tock Tick Tock...

Common folk, genii, and Mighty Kings,
are all occupied by the joys life brings,
but offer them to have whatever they may,
observe, as they shall ask, for more hours in a day...

Tick Tock Tick Tock...

Get on with your work, as the hour bell does chime
but take a glance at the powerful window, clock,
as it shows you the flow of river time.