This is a zone of peace for my demons and angels to congregate, a journey from death-metal to dhrupad traversing desiring machines, and an account of sporadic outbursts resulting from my experiences. "I don't think about art when I'm working. I try to think about life." -Jean-Michel Basquiat
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Nishachar II
The maelstrom of thoughts is dying down,
as dawn caresses the city with her soft glow.
Sweet sleep beckons the weary eyes,
that gaze at the sky turned blue.
Smoke from the last cigarette end,
sways in the sun out of the window.
Light and dark dance in courtship,
their conflict an eternal ruse.
as dawn caresses the city with her soft glow.
Sweet sleep beckons the weary eyes,
that gaze at the sky turned blue.
Smoke from the last cigarette end,
sways in the sun out of the window.
Light and dark dance in courtship,
their conflict an eternal ruse.
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