Living the moment
without participation.
Not accepting the liberation.
I will call you when
earth starts weeping.

Someone lights a match
in dark, to see the rim
of black hole. A
suspension bridge hangs
between the tunnel of lies.

The uncertain tomorrow
and truncated present.
The life breaks the relationship
between fire and rain. Now
you invoke the black cloud.

The mania. You are shoved
on the tracks before incoming
electric wheels. This was
democracy on move pushing
the entrails out.