Morning craze



Blossoms afar, I wish you were here,
Merry delights on walls escaping,
Wishful, a child longs to play,
Oh colours, those mysterious echoes,
Flamboyant those irrepressible shadows,
Grey and hard gray until midnight,
Then a sleep in highs,
Uncounted, reflected memories,
Drenched in hues, all murky,
Greens and browns all fading,
Yellows and blues all escaping,
Perhaps a king,
Fleeing a bed’s battle,
Halt! A sun watches,
Every day it sinks deeper,
Shines a little,
Behold! For the days roll nearer,
Grey, as it has been,
The land of dead,
The land of sorrow,
Humbly I plead,
A mixture of your finesse,
A blend of your colours,
Boasting on a night so shy,
When angles themselves descend,
The gods and best idols gaze,
Heaps of beauty, intoxication and flurry…

Weeping eyes, were seen,
A son when abstained,
No shadow no game,
Washed the rain…

Some green kids unfixed,
And a few dirty roses,
Fresh mud seen,
Instant morning blood,
The perfect mix…

And cheerful seen the light,
Filmy eyes, fresh of rain,
And lo! Again it pains,
Washed and swept away,
His morning craze!



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