Hope of thought
Lingers on the shade of the moon
Fragrance of skin induces strength
Knot of innocence awaits clueless-cutting
Password and watchword tarry in silence.
Blade of pleasure
Ran through the curtain of the night
Tears-smiles are scored sonorously
Gateway of gods crumbled at the stain of blood
Imbecilic vengeance buries branches of almond.
I sing of change
That perishes in horizon of promises
Claps of lepers to break coconut-tide
Beautiful rose of familiar heart is milling star with staff
On the land of Lilliput mighty are buried in grass-envelope.
Darkness hung at the corners of springing beatitudes
Native of the night propagates prosperity of confusion
Hunting dog goes deaf at the wilderness
Chariot chatters at horses’ sliding-flees
A race of tussle,
Night promises not to come again
But dusk refuses to handover to the rising sun
Wealth of the night inhabits the purchasing power of morning-market
Blood is drinkable water at the table of the night
Femur and humerus are toothpicks for the guests.
At the conference of the day we await the confession of night
The resurrection of sword is in separation of wheat and tares
Winds and hurricanes are not identical twins
Wordsmith is totally forgotten in dark silence
Kudos to night-conditioner.