Go, my sun go.
Collect all your golden leaves
and leave me with pink wounds.
Go, my son go.
Collect all your lies
and leave me with bare bones.
Lying in bed with saddened eyes
I count the mistakes, eternities
and chew the years.
It had been a long journey
from cloud to cloud,
time to dropp on dew again.
I return to silence
feed it my body.
Satish Verma