into Dust turning
only a certain sadness reaches out to this creature
look at what has become of the Lord’s Provenance
ever so slowly disappearing from past dreams 
and all of the Host of our troubles and foes have banded into one

what in arrogance 
from this side of the Gate can no longer been seen
what in dissolution 
I can no longer be allowed to feel

a weary, tedious path must with faith be prevailed
shadows lengthen, shadows stay, and the night wanders
the lackluster yawn of a lonesome straggler
upon realizing, a teary-eyed angel purchased his exemption
as the countless leaves of another Autumn churned

Happiness a draught captured, so
and thus a final bidding ensued
shouts of willful glee and ransomed petals of laughter fleeting
the twilight feathers its somnolence unforgiven
in all sobriety the sleekest corvus uttered:
“I was meant for brighter Dreams”, 
but none of them ever happened.
98 Nov 30 (c) copyright owned by Siddharta Somar 
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