O ye invisible beams of a sin
stretching across the garden;
puberty gets torn every night
in an eternally opened brothel.

Barks **** the poor scream,
it finds no abode; so homeless,
for the ears won't catch on
the sobbing that's worthless.

The time is existing till night
to expound the story untold,
cunning essence lies deep
in the petals seem unfold.

The holders of silence now,
caress each other till dawn,
my paradox would be real if
someone nightly visits lawn.

A gloomy midnight—I rested
beneath a starry veil, where
drenched sky shrinks
hiding a tear, flowing,
latterly floating.

Silent the tear is
to honor the nature,
to honor the rain,
making it annihilate
in other aqueous.

As sky turns,
the tear gets burnt
with all compassion,
casting depression
towards the fear.

How peace would've,
if it stayed in
my eye,
its coffin.