Unfazed you stand in―
a drizzle, to locate the
moon nestling in clouds.

The speed of bite was fatal,
showing the movement
of incompleteness.

I searched the identity―
of one anonymous, who
had fathered an illegitimate eunuch.

I wanted to make a
confession, looking at the
blue sky, about my waywardness.

The crazy thing of mixing
the flowers, winds, moon and birds
with serious chores of life.

Unmistakingly a poem.