Poezja

In reality― you were
in a ring of fire. I had been
left with no claim on you.
Your failure had become mine.

This was not the game―
changer. Moon had latched
on the watery eyes. Synapsis
had started to break away.

The god wears different
apparels― as per the need of the
occasion. Nobody is going to say,
rest in peace.

Gradually I will stop
speaking about myself. When
my time comes, I will lose everything
and set you free.

The blind eagle will find its abode.