Do I really have to tell
where I was three days before April ninth...
They barked, “You do not fit, don’t tag along!
Be gone, you beast! Your kind is not our kin...
Veil lifts in twilight—
gypsys dance reddening in...
Feel the losers’ pain,
it will soften your own loss...
Shades of Red
Like the colour of traffic lights...
In the fog of fleeting moments,
I see you grasping at shadows...
I want to break free
From my sleepless night...
A tear has an existence of its own—
salted from deep seas...
What wounds you inflict upon this heart—
yet you do not know...
Have you ever drunk
from the goblet of yourself...
An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...
If loneliness were a flower,
it would bloom—only to fade...