To the Indian Fella

Hey you Indian fella in solitude Hey you ruler of papers in silence The two pens or one you get use of The reggae music of mute you listen to Your wandering soul in seasons The themes, the loneliness, the dreams The dead words you inspire The cold land, the drops, the black and white you weave, The ancient dark caves of thoughts you pierce, The butterflies, the flowers, the blossoms The cold winter day, The poor ones purified under the rain, Oh…Wing I have words with you Of those ones in your mind And of the ones in no one’s mind Philosophy, value, chaos Ingratitude, infatuation, complex Loneliness, marginalized, inhumanity Art, books, no where land Utopia, love, ego Superego, politics, swamp Repetition, debate, proving Flying, infinity, being Revenge, psychopath, innocence Salvation, sympathy, solitude And the numb papers and The disabled dancing pens.