Eviction…. The Persian wheel and the shelter 

 

An absolute cul-de-sac and the sadness of the evening.

An original living stone. A diluted cloudy day.

The equator. The swarms of the fins in the vacuum.

Sways in the air the thread of the invention.

 

A holy place square in size.

Flies to and fro a rainy flirting

 

And is gone the alphabet of the coffin

 

Yet

 

Frequently changes water the bus route in the hell.

The domicile attire comes and goes when the scepter frowns

 

Having seen the rows of the volatile scriptures

 

And no tears get precious when suddenly the ants find no rescue work above the sky.

 

A thin pitcher

 

And a fizzy population are nothing but the cruelties of the numbers.

The scattered traffic signal 

 

A river…. A poster… A moratorium.

 

A drooping shadow of a rose by the pond in the evening.

Once she dreamt of an abode of peace but….

 

The horse.

The galloping crawling advertisement of a shaving cream.

Bows its head vacuum.

 

A flute in the air.

The yellow signature of the banyan tree.

The golden chapters of the red leaf.

 

Have all been said by the artery?

 

The last is to come about the truth.