You came closest to me.
Brilliant stars came in between us.
Now one by one each star is burning.

A poet was a mystic
to find the difference between birth and dying.
And he left the body untold.

I am not getting
the peace by waterfall from the eyes
of an extraordinary winter of poems.

I want to forget
my gains of deliverance in―
reopening the economy of pain.

My logo was simple
to carry your own cross to prove―
that I can rise from dead.

The numbers hurt.
I cannot touch the awards for
throwing my dreams one by one.

I am forgetting. Sad
and broken. Life betrays. Rocks
the heart. In core the pain spikes.

The questions what,
where and why. Sorrow and emptiness.
All the things happened to hurt.

I seek mercy. God
has failed. I want to read the stones.
What was engraved in small letters?

I lost my soul.
You shouldn't have left like
a thread from a needle.

What could not be done,
was to take liberty with the alphabets of
life. Why pain comes without words?

Something turns my
past after anointing my young
poems of abdication.

Killing myself
creating a new man, breadth
by breadth without birth.

Ash smeared on your
forehead, you move towards setting
sun. Flames write your message.

On the chest of dead.
There will be no past, no future
in the dust of fallen warriors.

Hiding the thoughts
in mind space. Will not come
near the heart. I am often lonely.

Were you a volcano?
Will you cry now? Antiquity
plays a role. I won't see the lava.

This was hypocrisy
in the soundless night. We are listening
variant songs. Who was coming without foot falls.

Don't drink in the eye
of the storm. Go and sit on
the seat of judgment.

Stars are beginning
to walk in sunlight. Tulips want
to be born again without moons.

So sad that I cannot
recall your face and I give
up my name for you.