Shriyandhaa's space

  Once they were friends, adored each other Drifted apart as one rose much higher  And the other remained, a dutiful villager;  But he never would forget the times together. But as the days wore on, not much was left  And the villager decided to meet his old friend But along with that, he was sent with a quest;  To ask for some help, and some money to lend. And so he left, with nothing but some beaten rice;  Oh, how worried he was; that wasn't enough  But it's all they had; and it's all his friend liked; It had to be done, although it seemed rough. And after a long journey, he finally reached -  The King (his friend) was delighted; a surprise greet! Overwhelmed with joy, the poor villager forgot his intentions,  As they reminisced their pasts; oh, what fun!  But the King noticed the little bag packed with beaten rice,  And innocently asked his friend what it was.  With a flash of memory, the villager presented the rice,  A...

  It was a bright day, so many great things I could've done. But unfortunately, my mom decided to drag me to a random award function she was going to ("You're not going to do anything at home anyway,"). I reluctantly went behind her and fumed as she picked the second row.  "Can I sit at the back?" I asked.  She just randomly shook her head and mumbled indistinct words and pointed at the stage (something she always does when she doesn't know how to react, non-chalantly). I sighed, and flopped down next to her. We waited about 30 minutes (which I spent peeking at my mom's phone while she stared at her phone), and then a man climbed on to the stage, followed by another man, and then two women. They were all smiling, as they came, but who knows, they were probably wishing to have stayed home to scroll and text their friends (hint, hint). And then the emcee/host came to the mic and introduced the people on stage, who grinned broadly and joined their hands...

Lightning is that which intimidates,  But thunder is that which wishes  To follow lightning.  That is to say,  Thunder follows lightning's path,  But reaches a different destination.  But thunder can be far more intimidating -  You don't need to see it to believe it.  But aren't we told to not blindly believe  Whatever we hear?  For all we know, the "thunder" we heard,  Could just be the bark of a very large dog.  But lightning is something we see - But can we believe everything we see?  Perhaps the lightning is just  The lights, somewhere in the sky  Fluctuating.  But if we can't rely on thunder  Or lightning  What if they're both played together?  Though thunder always follows,  Never leads or walks beside,  Surely, we can believe  If we see it, and hear it.  But how great could the coincidences be?  No, to believe it, you must feel it -  And not just a mere ink...