A master's whistle commands,
On a hunt, to the hounds,

To chase and not fail,
The deer's blood scented trail

Scraped by a swift arrow,
Flying through the nest of a true sparrow

Tearing apart,
The hatchling, from it's young spirit

The broken soul of its mother,
And bloodstain, on her quill feather

Drops of tender rain,
Open pores of my frozen skin,
My soul, free, within

Night falls, that crickets,
Drunk on dew, sing a new song,
To the star, and moon

A scribble to the last letter
For the man on the hill,
Touching the heavens and the earth
Crowned by the morning sun

I moan, oh! old one!
For my acquaintances with folly,
That now am tatters of shame
Blown at by the winds of laughter

Oh! these streets of many faces!
In this big court room am bound,
On a stand, by mockery
In the jaws of human cruelty

One side step many times
Off the rails of discreetness
A youthful adventure I thought,
Swayed by the inborn naivety

And so, I write,
My weary too heavy
That I seek the counsel of stars
To guide me out of my piteousness

To the man on the hill

Tormented, deranged,
The world from upside down
Walking on a silver sky,
Looped in luscious echoes,
Reflecting memories of her silhouettes

An angelic beauty of youthfulness
The streaming river of honey
Down her fountain of ecstasy
From where I drunk cups of pleasure
Tethering my soul to her trickery

I now burn from within,
A fire dragon of intoxication
Boiling cells in my blood,
Racing through my now rusty heart,  
The rising temperatures of addiction

I stand before my reflection,
The other being unknown
Trapped in a glass wall,
Behind curtains of reality

Echoes of falling roses petals
Like bangs of a huge temple bell
Shockwaves across the open sky

Birds wildly fly into a dark cloud,
Suffocating on hate and rage,
Declaring a vengeance that runs deep,

Of a lone soul on a lovers' street
Vision blurred by the teary eyes
Eroding slowly, the heaviness of her broken heart