Lotus-eyed destiny 
We see nothing in dark's mutiny,
Dark can see the destroyer's imagination
We fight, not participating in the destruction

I wait for nothing
I say nothing
But everything is here to embrace,
the intergalactic travel of weeping stars
The weight of the wind is heavier, when I breathe in scarce.

Melancholic mystery of megalithic believer
As a part of the performance, I implicate
I am not a wrong-doer, the truth of the matter

Muddied feet leaves footprint in watery earth
I walk on fire-path of time now
time in my palm, tears of the sun is the balm,
Performing this penance in windy valley, becalm, seated in parched soil
For suffering you cause to loyalist, despoil

For the educated ones are now wrapped in the dust of ignorance 
Into the inner palace of melancholy now I pray
Freeing the pledge to reach eternity to play.

Statue of Gods float in the veins of invisible ink
Secret ink is my secret poetry;
the burn mark, under the vacuum of pottery,
I look outside the open door to invoke the impasse, I discriminate when impeccable is not love,
When I reach the dead end of kindness,
I sell off cheap kitsch of pretentious art
Kindness is not made of kitsch plaster
I buy from the madman few statutes of Gods made of plaster of Paris, 
he can master
But yet he says , he knows no of Paris.
Breakable – take care of the statues. Some sell it all cheap,
Imagination in power, so deep.

I see you are not a thief, burglar or a betrayer
Don’t worry- I am a good buyer,
His smile like a silent prayer....
I saw God’s tears,
tears of the sun.