Columns of red lights
And headlights
Of slow moving vehicles
Some roaring, some howling
And some, comfortably blowing
The air reeks, the road
The road persistently
Seals the wheels
And the drivers, the riders
Barely visible
Hound the maze.

The Light that i keep
Is camouflaged
Beneath layers of truth and lie
No matter how far or old i get
The splendor of youth
Keeps me nigh.
The Darkness in me
Is mesmerized
Through the feel of eye and ear
No matter how high or low i get
Tilts of moment
Shift my gear.

Poem is a thing of devotion
That rarefies mind's aperture
To captivate the reader's emotion

Through the winding lane of lines
With unparalled tincture
Matter manifests its mines

As the words waltz in detention
To mold the motion of thought
Rhythm ramifies perception

To reach the crest of credo
Via the voices that rebut
Poem elevates by veto.

Glory to craftsmanship
That endures the wrath of time
Artisans vanish one by one
As is Nature's custom
But their inner beauty
Remains in their labored art.
A masterful stroke of hand
Guided by divine volition
Engages thought's flight
To spheres unknown
Where true art gives birth
To creativity's genius.
Art imparts mystical light
Upon envisioned designs
Shaped by hand, heart and spirit
A poem, a painting, a silver cup
Is brought to life
For the pure joy of creation.
O' masters of the wind
Hearken the hopes of craftsmen
And steer their zing heavenward
They are the symbol of plastic arts
A manifestation of wizardry
Toiling in labyrinth of formation.

By the dawn of day
This parson pilfers
The tongue of its prey
And flutters it at will
Till the shades of evening turn grey
And if fact is there,
All the way into caves of twilight.
It deals with opposition
Quite different way:
A sudden wit, a swift play
Followed by hypersonic heed
And that's it
The enemy is shed
And maintained by lightning whips
Or sweet succession of
Lilliputian leaps.
Don't oppose its sermon for too long
For it stuns the breath
Heaven's assigned it a sign
Lovers can read
And beasts endeavor to destroy it
Welcome its weightless landings
For it never rests
Until nestled by fate.

Ah, let them fool me
With their fettered flaws
Their freedom is but lettered laws
And their fancy, out of lee.
Their claws, though I could,
I would not wring to tears
I would not lease
Their learnings to fear
For I'm certain
They can not rule me.

You devils who do deal me wrong
In need, in despair, even in sleep
I defeat you with shameless tongue
And defy your cause
By the minute
Till the morn be night
And dark, light
Till the time meets
The tearing limit.
You gods whom
I'm supposed to trust
To obey, to praise
Till my time is done
Be aware that the day is dark
Where the Sun
Is helpless to shine.
Godhood is reasoned
Devilhood is pawned
Let the notion of good and bad
Be odd.