The valley holds on, to murder
of moon, behind the trees...

Will mediation
work? I don't know...

Got struck on the spiky gate
a half-eaten deer...

When I am completely denuded
Of my tremors...

On a hollow path
you had failed...

A dynast in the storm-razed
polity will ask...

You shut to it?
the window, on watching...

The noise of a crescent
climbs wordlessly...

Where will you go
when you are not right...

Cannot undo, the
headless leap of faith...

I moan the departure
of death...

Mirror to mirror
a face floated in anguish...