Metamorphosis comes first,
said the path missing the trail of truth.
Spirituality remained unconnected.
Cunning lies kept on popping up like bush fires.
Non answering provoked a wordless war between tall trees.
Non sleeping fears held the linear perceptions.
Tirelessly the thoughts mapped the doubts and plunged into grief.
A name was engraved on nevertime tomb.
Show me your tattooed skin, a proof of a dream.
Don’t push it down, it is always there.
Your basic fear.
You want again to cook a slice of past.
A tragic penetration into darkness.
There is no immediate tomorrow.
You are seeking a burning star, smacked of revenge.
