Cutting across the food wars
against adamant century...

Blood was in season,
on your hands...

Fear grips a family of words.
You are going to where you do not want...

Living between the deaths
as a witness...

I will need
some new words today...

It was a wake up call
invoked...

In twilight of pain
I blink for a dot...

With stoicism writ on face
I invite the chisels...

Holding the thread,
I catch you in midstream...

There was no end
to looking inside...

The ashes will come back
in mauve...

I had not imagined
that you will start an inquiry...