Poetry

Shedding the knowledge 
I was aware of emptiness, 
that will allow me 
to watch from afar― 
 
the message coming from 
the locked doors. 
Getting nearer the gorge 
you want to look at your spitting image― 
 
in water. I hinge an old frame 
to find me in baby face. Did you 
see your future visits to 
cauldron of life? 
 
You never wanted to become 
a god of wayfarers. A tinge 
of stupidity was evident to renew 
your faults to remain human.