The Earth glowers,
And one’s soul scours
Into the thick bushes of dream pangs
And heart pangs, and loneliness
With its perilous fangs
There’s one corner
In my room where I delight so much,
Where the light eschews hope,
Because hope is such a voyage
That goes hasty, but nowhere
I dig my own grave,
In the time of assault and grace
To hide my squalid face
From the rest of the Sun’s rays
And so I give out a restive grimace
No food for hours,
No sunlight, no moon’s kiss
No water for minutes, no synthetic bliss
Guised safely within the sheaths
I trapped the stars, they barely breathe
One corner of the dim room,
There’s one place where I am barenaked
Where nobody’d laugh at me
Nor point fingers and poke me as if a carcass
Washed up at the side of the sea
There’s quandary but I suffer it gladly,
Where every glass tear is a water fall,
Where I crawl like an infant,
And sleep like a midnight train –
My world is a gutter, I am a gutterball.
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