Soft gust of rays,
Like a tycoon that slays,
Mere act of withering sun,
Vanish subdues but glimpses stays..
Vanity; the sin for few,
Wonder how it set these hues,
Of world that admires and disgusts,
Of bird in cage and one which flew..
Raging rays, sharp and sleek,
Diffuse through glass; insanely sneak;
Into the condos,rusted and wane,
Reflect the world its mourning gig..
Birds; they suspect the demise,
Stir in groups to catch the lies,
Of sun which sets and moon that rise,
Tired of spying, assumes it dies..
None less but more of a kind,
Every night I wish to rewind,
The things I see and time that flees,
But the more I try the trail goes blind..


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