silhouette of the sky

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Alone in a cabin of four
I see the night out of my window
The silhouette of sky itself
Red and orange blinking in the blinding rest
Listening to the songs of an unknown artist
Leading nowhere, nowhere it seems

The white sky when will fall on the yellow sea
And break the freedom of dirty feet?

A hand tied carton and a bag queuing to be
Beyond the curtains in the silhouette of the sky
Abandoned on buildings
On statures of civic history

Do I swear black to be a part, a part of the unseen?
Does it look outside at itself just like me?
Like me enjoys a lonesome apart
A feel of forgetting
A cry to burst
A shiver staring from its mouth
A nagging tongue to bring him down
A smile so bright, so bright
to light the silhouette of the sky

At times I halt
and at all others rush and paddle
on the Taggart tracks of plain and very simple architecture

When? Again
Will the white sky fall on the yellow sea?
Dropping its spikes on colored things
Brushing away even the slightest hint of pencil leads

Revealing all of us, us from the journey
the silhouette of the sky
would actually be seen
on the outskirts of life
and encircling it rather than watching
all within
all within the silhouette of its being



The cloud will then shine in the midst
The sun erasing it from the fall
The stars will be hugged by the chirping trees
The silhouette of the sky much, much more than black and green
Much more than just the glow from beneath
More of a meeting of unmasked heads
around a well of sparkling flees

Silhouette of the sky will then be



Shringi
17 January 2007