No ending of the story. The loose thread hangs.
Journey again starts at the termination.
The smell is something of enigma.
I am again dissecting the body of a stale corpse.
Fever is rising with jokes Thin sheet covers
the ugly face with blisters.
A disconcerned person burns the phosphorus.
The darkness creates the ghosts of history,
two thousand years of knowledge.
Still the niceties of culture are to e observed
and firework started
to celebrate the end of an era.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into