The wet heat has drained the day of its hue and colour,
People are resting in blissful silence,
And enjoying their noon siesta unaware of outside happenings,
The world takes a break from its bustling routine,
And all is quiet.

I however am restless and anxious,
Watching the battle-field of a deadly spider
And an even more deadly scorpion,
Trees droop in their misery,
As if to say that they too are our partners
In this seasonal battle against the elements.

We are made to be savages
Animals without discourse of reason,
For the heat saps all our energy
And makes us mere slaves of our physiques,
Tempers fray and thoughtless words
Are exchanged, and many are wounded
In this fire of Summer tempers.