Rubin Nanda

Mercury Heartland

See the white fog descend upon twilight hours,
like falcon spread its wings to eclipse the Sun,
Hear the flood whisper under the cover of night,
drowning us all, in a macabre ablution.
Shapes and shades of my deformed soul
knock on your benevolent heart, a tune I pursue,
As each of my knock fades, decibel by decibel,
Who then, do you sing your song to?

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