Poezja

The smile conceals, something. 
Does not offer any cue. 
You were still traveling 
within. 
 
You wanted to leave the world, 
as it was, without cleaving 
the wood, not accepting the veneer. 
It rang an alarm bell. 
 
To evolve their own persona; 
good to take their own path. 
The fallout was widening.This 
was an insider’s story. 
 
What an audacious withdrawl; 
and you were in a silent mode like a Buddha 
to uptake the film of dust 
settling on the innocent rape of book.