Deceiving yourself you
have become a king. The queen
will follow you in the dark.

The charisma of magic
begins. Who will climb the Himalayas
without legs in the snowfall of love?

Bring the flowers of
jasmines. Beautiful but not similar,
but bring the same fragrance for sleeping god.

My ****** was transliterating
your agony. You could imbue me after
your unparalleled perfection.

Nature starts the Armageddon.
You reach near the Hawthorn and Hazel
tree, to be cloaked with pain.

Your grey tongue has
to say something. How will you come
out from dark house to light.

Never thought, you will
come nearer to me. When reality
fails, let me maneuver your amnesia.

Standing under the
hazel tree, I give you a call. It is
getting dark to reach home of the moon.

Nobody knows my tragedy.
When god was ready to take me away,
I said I have to kiss the red moon.

This was the crisis of
sacred fig. My ****** pain and
suffering were indigenous.

I adore the beauty of
night blooming jasmine. Unpaid death
follows in day. The milk dries up.

Before Nietzche walks in
I will divide the body of my dream.
A panic takes over the truth.

There was no return.
You were a huge mirage of a
golden effigy. The incantation begins.

The pain is severe.
Age factor was a killer. You were like
a river, witnessing the sinking of a burning ship.

A cruel elegy. Do
you think it was monumental
to write down my saga with a burning candle.

I am crying again.
My Simba is gone. Before closing eyes,
unstopped he was looking at me.

Is it better to hang?
I will ask Sylvia Plath, what was the need,
to close all the windows and set gas free.

I slapped me. What was
the attachment with an alien? I was
looking at the face of Venus.

You require a beginning.
It was too difficult to wake a
buried python. There was a blind love.

You dream of a third arm
to make a triangle. Love, faith
and knife to start a new world.

No imagination. It
was reality. The drama never started.
The crowd freezes without cold.