A fraction of insomnia glued to an
emotion;
Ephemeral images creating a hazy
illusion
Whatever stays has already survived the
fire, the rain
Bittersweet eyes, red and black,
have seen it all
All that subsides shall pass the curtain,
and be free
A song in its twilight minutes
imparts its melody, becomes empty
Reason croaks, as lunacy makes up
for chivalry
The Caravan that boasts of beautiful
faces doesn’t unveil the drape;
The soul, albeit a bit less parched
than it has been,
The taste buds retain the tinges of nirvana,
the hearty ecstasy
until the senses give in to the material
sphere again,
and the heart is ready to laugh
madly,
in the wake of yet another beautiful
dream.
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