Poems From Vault

(I) 

Kill (bury) me when I fall the second time,

For I won't have the courage to stand again.

People with failed purposes are more vicious

Then people without any purpose, I reckon.

Kill (bury) me in the cremation ground,

For I can witness others burning.

(ii)

Dwindling, drifting, dreaming soul;

Wandering in this demanding world.

Parallel, placid, poignant strings;

Singing songs addressed to winds.

Rainbows under greyest skies like moon's light, in disguise.

If all the trees in the woods were the same, would it be a peaceful flock

Or an endless maze.