GodhuliLagane

A wistful glance into the opal sky,

There million birds pass me by,

Indistinct instincts stir up the chalice of spiritual frenzy,

Mumbling in sinister belief or disbelief?

Pardon doubt,

Pardon Infidelity,

Punish regret or its' pretence

and that I dread.

Hope recoils, uppish nicety,

in greed lurching onto the spills of a dream

Dreamt in the white night of Troy,

in beaming Machu Pichu turrets,

To fasten an end of the crescent

Pull the other strongly,

and rebel against few puissant bars.

Regime of the dot nearing its plot.

Winsome mistral heals.

I not, Cannot be sent back sky

I would fly,

I Will Fly.