Greek Tragedy

Where blue meets the

red, I will bring moon to cross

you river of tears.

Thousand suns away

the pygmy god sleeps in thatched

hut, to feel the pain.

When you swim in my

eyes, I become an ocean

to drown the deity.

Defining Equation

Returning to past

you tend to remain all mum,

murmuring nothing.

Measuring speed

of light coming from my eyes

without spilling dark.

What burns up, ejects

the sparks on your shroud

of three parting words.

Sacred Steps

Retrieve me, by my

voice, to stay at the pause

between wounded words.

Unopened scar

beams from the moon to heal

the breached faith.

You know, lips always

remember the kiss of sun

in raging snow.

The Ascetic Grieves

Why Buddha waits for

Yasodhra, to become sane

and atone a sin.

The time was catching

up. Like someone plucks a

narcissus for prayer.

Pink and white, the

cherry blossom in your eyes

cracks the asphalt.

Trekking

In blue dawn

pure truth will hinge on the

personal moons.

I was ready to tell

you all rumors to learn the

art of mimicry.

The air smells of the

masks. Not fakes. Skin dries

up to dew emboss prints.

Form And Muscles

You talk of evil,

I become incendiary.

The name had power.

Unthinkable. You

fight the lurid details of

chopping off fingers.

How would you write

the opus of human slip

for seeking royalty?