Till last moment, life can produce a meaning.
Of sky, stars and space between darkness and light.
I am not going to weigh the burden
and insult the ‘how’ of impossible,
so much is still to finish.
I am not going to commit suicide.
Are there any takers of grass, of moon
and scented winds?
the borderline is very vague between
ecstasy and depression.
A bit of silence, a patch of sunlight
I drink my cup from the tranquil hands,
I am water, I am fire
The fear is not going to dissipate me.