What was about this face?
Between mirage and actuality...

Spherules start a pincer attack
on the modesty of an epiphany...

Going back foot
he looked inside himself and felt a breeze...

Again I was giving chase
to a mirage...

‘Twas your ghost
to secure the promise...

You talk of evil,
I become incendiary...

A parallel pain walks with you
when you split into space and time...

Revolting inwardly
the fountain chokes...

A complex ego:
lips on a flame...

Blunt and bold were
the wet spots...

He would set them free,
words. On cityscape...

One night, in moon
labyrinth, you will find...