To the Indian Fella
Hey you Indian fella in solitude
Hey you ruler of papers in silence
The two pens or one you get use of
The reggae music of mute you listen to
Your wandering soul in seasons
The themes, the loneliness, the dreams
The dead words you inspire
The cold land, the drops, the black and white you weave,
The ancient dark caves of thoughts you pierce,
The butterflies, the flowers, the blossoms
The cold winter day,
The poor ones purified under the rain,
Oh…Wing I have words with you
Of those ones in your mind
And of the ones in no one’s mind
Philosophy, value, chaos
Ingratitude, infatuation, complex
Loneliness, marginalized, inhumanity
Art, books, no where land
Utopia, love, ego
Superego, politics, swamp
Repetition, debate, proving
Flying, infinity, being
Revenge, psychopath, innocence
Salvation, sympathy, solitude
And the numb papers and
The disabled dancing pens.
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