I saw you shivering on a blue velvet carpet, lying beneath the orchid fields.
While I was chanting my Mantras after the Goldrush and further.
Was it you, or was it me?
Time is useless!
But once upon a time, I knew, yes, it was you; breathless.
And once upon a time it was me, reckless; enchanting I knew.
As time goes by and who will know and why?
I saw you shivering. Underneath the golden blanket, wrapped around your toes.
While I was delivering flowers to the masses, you made shambles out of rose petals, silently.
So I counted Mantras again. Thrice and Twice. But my vision blurred.
Strange colours emerged from the bottom of our hearts.
What did you mention time was like?
A face is something untouchable outside of yours.
A face is not there. Like words not uttered, unspoken.
Will I ever know? Will you? Ever is a long word.
Finally, I close my eyes because my vision commences to fail. A dazzling haze befalls my senses.
Time is countless. Will I ever touch you? Ever is a long word for people longing! Time is endless.
Everything else is not. A mantra is endless. While I chant it, my vision recurs and all I see is
An icon of decay