Grey Wolves of Northern Wei

A Pathalogical Escapist

I look around...

and yet sinews of my mind still falter

to grasp the fleeting race of day to day communal custom.

Wherever I gaze at 

I ponder upon with the curtain which covers my Sight,

a Shawl invisible and lighter than 

a Wondrous Invite
and to Outer-Realm beyond the Sundries of the Lavish Measure.

And should such poor Soul en-trapped in Tides of the Dream-Weaving

be so immediately healed

And in the Dullness of Cold Hospice?

Is Lazarus Bankruptcy of Sanctuary for the Dissillusioned ones 

just and excuse and to impoverish the Spirit more?

Enough with Infermiary cure,

By adding drop of Potent Potion

Departs again

another Guest

and laying down with Tube of Den

leaves signature on passing Noon

Without reticence on cheeks

Without any vivid sign of Motion...


[ *East India Company,

Cottage of Ms Weathers,

Year 1867,

Calcutta hyphen Bombay.

Bombay - CITY. dot. End of the Signal ]