As the last ticks sound, before the sunset,
Birds scatter in the blue prologue to night
Trying to snatch the departing orange
That men of lady moon will blanket soon
A failed scarecrow stands in a gamboge field
With a crow-insulted face, dress undone,
Tendril infested, arms both at ninety
In hopes of catching the last autumn winds
A tap's a gimcrack when the water bleeds
But turns into a diamond when it stops,
Is it lunacy or lack of wisdom
That beautifies everything at the last hour
Midnight makes the retiring day young again,
Last love's scar fades when the next comes around,
This vile beast called life inside which we've been
Captured, seems kind again when at death's door.
~Ajay
14/11/17
