When the divinity
lived in you, I scrambled
to touch blue moon.

Sitting near a
sepulcher, I dreamed of
inhuman deaths.

Will my generation
give heart rending tip-off
to this doomed world?

Come inside
me and explore god of
fire burning the world.

A miracle was
not the answer. The pathless
trek ends in water.

To live or not
to live like light
in eyes of moon.

He was betrayed
In the end
By the Gods of his youth
His prophecy
Ended
By the only deities he knew
Parents
The infant's almighty
The Gods of small children
Hanging like
The mobile of life
Over them
It is all they born to
But
Bruised fists floated
Like angry storm clouds
Over Seas of battered emotions
Sweet red lips
Buttered with coated  lies
Whispered
And Whispered
Into the wind
And in the end
He was left all alone
And on his own cross
Was forsaken
By his God