the hut owner

the lazy days dismally dragged on by
obstructing time, so hard, creeping a cry
diligent arms, linking with virulent tongues
the heart didn’t listen, the mouth had fangs

the dubiety, the plea, were often left ignored
the rebirth of a morning from a depthless snored
the voice that was yours, it did not listen
the answer that was mine, it was all missin’

the night recovered, fool’s paradise came forth
a rerun of scenes, came running south to north
racing against time, the khaki sounds awake,
breath held my hands up quite by mistake

wee hours fell in, morning eyes still closed
the mind’s awake, the thought was doused
the flattened face, oblique imprints of pillows
shadows of dent dredged the trance in hollows

orange circle waving the rising heat of sun
cooling breeze, soothing the rays for a perfect tan
sands of white, gyrating waves murmured around
morning warm kiss of natures’ freshness abound

sleep, dream and then fully awake
this man’s cycle, Someone has bothered make
an Almighty Creator didn’t gamble a mistake
creating these mysteries not half but fully baked..


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