Without pretension I try to dissect the truth
with a leap of faith,
which was a whole of me
and no outside fable.
The part ambition and part failure,
become a lump in the throat.
An intense enquiry starts with a shudder.
A crystal depth spills in cosmos, the words scream
you die for a chaste language.
The clarity of wing's span,
and the purity of essence.
Yet life repeats some relevant,
questions of unknown,
of livid pain and sorrow.
As preamble to witness
a sad demise of a vision,
shock of abandonment
of a dream of future intellect,
the valley of clouds suffers a set back.
The ambition collapses like a failed god.
