I do not know when I was born, my mother never told me,<\/p>\n
Time the ceaseless weaver does not know its beginnings.<\/p>\n
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My sanguinity a creation of my ardor, my blues due to inconstancy,<\/p>\n
Mornings delicate hesitancies, evenings surf-peaked.<\/p>\n
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I am the voice of epic defeats, unreconcilable compromises,<\/p>\n
Vestige of a fallen colosseum, debris of unrealized plans.<\/p>\n
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Where are my dreams, what happened to my desires,<\/p>\n
The insane mower levels the field, bleaching the colors.<\/p>\n
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World does not hear our songs, nature stands by mute,<\/p>\n
The great cries of soul have no echoes to woo us back.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Long time back I had a tryst with destiny,<\/p>\n
Life as lived enforces an agenda of its own.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My defeats are behind me, eternity the only refuge,<\/p>\n
Biography of me a cruel joke, as time cannot read.<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
Suffern, New York, May 6, 2019; Revised Jan. 3, 2023<\/p>\n