SCATTERED

Scattering lights and the palace of Satan,
Across rambling tracks I tread,
As the monotonous humming of eagles,
Blots my thoughts and crowds my head.

Past the draught struck wailing windows,
And the wet collapsing walls,
I dwell in the homes of atheists,
Where Eve sells and Adam falls.

The meek whore passes by,
And puts her trembling hands on my breasts,
The next moment receded her into the rain,
But in my soul her agony rests.

Countless dreams crowd the streets,
And in the robe of these insomniac skies,
A thousand prismic lights blend,
And thrive in the white of my eyes.

Amidst the filthy pit,
An infant silently shrieks and wails,
The sea gulps down his pleas,
But his accusation in my bosom prevails.

The muddy paths assume queer turns,
And the tracks I tread become tangents,
I walked towards the untamed tides,
Me not Me, but a Million Fragments…