Poezja

On the road 
negotiating a midnight blue 
into the myth of rebirth, 
putting death in dock. 
to go or not go to beyond liberation. 
Home, left far behind! 
 
Leaving the house of desire and fame 
I was ready to go for my chosen abandonment. 
 
Life had become useless. 
Debating had begun. 
 
Ambulance was sitting idle on the keys. 
Observer was being watched. 
 
Septicemia. Venom has reached every 
microcosm and physician was dead. 
God was not mincing any words for dummies. 
 
A lightening stroke was travelling 
from head to toes. 
Open you bowels. 
Earth is crying.