Poetry

Unfazed you stand in― 
a drizzle, to locate the 
moon nestling in clouds. 
 
The speed of bite was fatal, 
showing the movement 
of incompleteness. 
 
I searched the identity― 
of one anonymous, who 
had fathered an illegitimate eunuch. 
 
I wanted to make a 
confession, looking at the 
blue sky, about my waywardness. 
 
The crazy thing of mixing 
the flowers, winds, moon and birds 
with serious chores of life. 
 
Unmistakingly a poem.