Dark is sooth, the space elude,
Forlorn in darkness I see
Pictures filmed in light,
When upon a mood so fixed,
That word each the air kiss,
And spaces the circle knit,
In ink had seen pitches black
Out whiter presence feed
To life a breath complete.

Hills here are so perfumed,
That a master whom words assume,
Nostalgic woods in fire groom,
Rising soot, the alter damp,
Blackened mists, the monsoon camp.

Reeks of murky confessions,
This ashy rain of day and night,
For once had the Lord so spelt,
Men in their matters filthy
And Universe in her keep,
Fiery darkness in his eyes seep.

Streets in presence shriek,
Same old smoke, mouthful treats,
The master and the Lord so greet.

Mine but another incense
Country woods and open skies,
Balm, the moon shadowed dark,
Some soothing pangs of the night.
Immersed in shades so serene,
Slumbers must heavily dream
The harmonies that openly scream,
Of spectacles in carnal cavities,
And lo! We’re drenched in charities.

Fixed! I am to you,
Of all matters untrue,
For lone in darkness we see,
Our might unto light.



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