Reticent were moon, sky and birds. 
A pall of gloom spread on the trees. 
Stoically I rode on the wings of pain, 
to watch the descending values. 

A timeless truth separates the charm from lies, 
and I long for the generosity of past 
which could connect us to future. 

A flame burns the eyes. 
When we took the wrong road? 
Still the fever is rising. 

Gods sneak into our affairs. 
A firebird flies in the space with long span of shadow, 
the helpless victim lies in wait, to be dispatched.

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