Contacting shattamakar
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Tuesday, September 15, 2009


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That crimson sea sometimes

Seems like eternal fire

Evaporating every damp soul

Into a glorious sunset filled

With figtrees on queer streets

Rosegardens and geraniums

Thrown into a sickly contrast

Against a melting skyline

Disappearing into obscurity

Then the afternoon moon

Soaks up the brine from

Your glassy eyes so fucked up

From a lifetime of sight wthout

Perception, a threatrical interruption

From a travelling stageshow circus

A carvan of existential clowns

Named after forgotten mountain

Flowers that bend towards the sun

Babbling stragers who fall silent

At the sight of strange mirrors

Like estranged brothers looking

At one anothers creases and wrinkles

And reminiscing the times where

Fights were just under the tablecloth

And smiles were formed above scars

With an unattainable gaze, you find

Her face from a poster of dilemmas

Between a dusty pile of photographs

A place where reveries escalate decibal

Squabble that lead to naught but seem

To terrorize everything you hold furthest

From your heart to make her stay

Inside that rosegarden without

Looking at the wall around it

Stable crumpled bits of paper

From a hastily torn ego battle

Forming a children's puzzle that

Will never answer their questions

And we catch a glimpse of the spark

The gem in the rubble of crumbled paperwork

But we still pause at the darkest corridor

To shy away from the sunset that seems like

The end of today but is just

The beginning of now.

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