Untitled
Tremulously as in a dream
I forget my place.
I wander the night air
the smell of attar.
I reach the bottom gradation
The hill of my life thereupon.
Black sax notes the air
Feelings; crash; symbols.
Needle eyes, tortured bones.
Over head;
fire and ice,
radio lies; and sigh.
The anathema won't take long now.
Children with life burning in their souls.
Somewhere, there is joy
also there is weeping.
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