Brishti....

I wait for Sleep..
Feeling.. the need to fly..
I wish, I could run..
Run beyond the bayonets and shrines of Gods..
Run beyond the fog of cigarettes;
And rusted romance..

Swish along the path ..
Where I lived...
by the sea..
To that place..
Underneath the orphaned rain...
Swept up by the weeping Moon..
folded safe..
In my torn checkered pocket..

I can hear the Fendo bleed my nails..
And
Rye breaks down..
Breaks; Apart;
In bouts of levied consciousness..
Lifting my eyes to a canvas on the wall..
Of Judas and Agamemnon,
Of Sun;
And Moon;
and this time..
Baby came through...
Delved...out her way..
From the Disappearance..
Forever..