Poetry

The invisible 
throws a visible image 
without a tether. 
Do you see the god? 
 
Was a matter of faith? 
You tie a thread on the wall. Longing 
finally reaches climax. Gravity 
defies a flying dream. 
 
You had erred, yet 
failed to accept the guilt. 
A scariest moment was, 
when you entered the morph. 
 
It was a U-turn. Robots 
will dictate the polity. You 
alight on a rostrum; like 
a lovely pink swallow.