sometimes i ask myself– who am i?

perhaps achilles whom i chased, or the amun whose blood i may carry, or the child of kalika, ever ethereal and rare

i count the days left, for i know time slips like sand; i am to be no more

it used to plague me, make me afraid, that the lingering truth of life is death

i had seen yama take you away to yamaloka, on a black bull like apis

ignorant to all my pleas and cries to be merciful

maybe he has been benevolent in drawing a line to your life before doom would have engulfed you

now, it's my time to be forgotten, getting merged with history

until the day of my last breath, i shall be a maniac lost in your memory

who am i? Maybe i have the answer– i am you.

The Perils of Love Never End

But this Collection Does

dedicated to all lovers,

défendu

THE END