I leave this world as ignorant as when I came into it, my hands empty, my heart full. I have no answers, only questions, no certainties, only doubts. The fear of death has been my most loyal companion, the cry of
Blood was in season, on your hands. A staged encounter mauling the clouds. Into a hare, you put the lead with a roar of gun and sun wants his share. Beneath the honours lies the guilt of a ravaged moon.
A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar