Goats and camels
My caravan moves on sand dunes...

Talking of nameless and unhappy death
I resume the pathos of recluse...

Remember it not.
Oblivion...

Shared my solitude, gave me comfort,
the road, my prelude to a long journey...

Into the dark enters the blue;
a homeless song punctures the cloud...

They felled a huge tree.
Some Druid feared that it had an afterlife...

In troubled times
he just walked away...

While writing a poem
I make a blood hole...

Prisoner of praise
was slave of anger...

A fake sanity with its wisdom
enlarges the space between the coarse...

I don't fake the pain
pain was me...

That fleeting incandescence
was branded witch...