Dread

It is revolving
unmindful – the ceiling fan
Wide of wings, poor of air

The florescent bulb
mimicking silver light –
Listless moon expired, and still
flickers

From the bookish pages
grave man – diatribe
living man’s curse

Lazily I watch, unblinking
invisible images
with dry eyes

Here it is – the present
ticking time by the wall clock

A soothing music
is playing from my computer –
the only respite – dread of modern age.
Reminiscent of my childhood
playing earth, water and sky …

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