Difficult it was
to understand oneself―
protecting the link
of the dust.

Restrained, a brazen
accident of the first
time. The creed has the originality.

Moving on opposite
paths, distances apart―
I beseech you to turn back.
The weed will divide us badly.

Do you believe in
afterlife? May I wait for
you, when you had blinked?

Your liberalism, and
peeling off the past will change
as future looked uncertain.

Will you insist on the
parting of the light
in crevices of mind?

Will you let me off to move away?