I Pity Them
There is always the earth
making its treats
The splendour that rises
spreading all around
The wind plays with the light
and I hear the birds
The small rivulet adjoins
the ready river
Today I began anew
I drink my nectars
blazing over with awe
it is 4AM
where the devils and angels jockey each other
for Ascendancy
I pity them
Hexagonal snowflakes
pour over me
I am in a quandary
I write myself over
I am no longer afraid
Let the people carry on
the best they can do
behind closed windows
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