The End

The kite floats —just severed—

Seesawing leisurely

In rhythm of kissing ends,

Of promises and dejections,

Of remembrances and forgetting,

Of reliance and betrayal,

Of pleasures and angst,

Beneath dark eyes of monsoon clouds.

A tiny tail of torn thread twirls

Buttressing with a small memory

Of a bonded past

Of an yearning for freedom

Of a passion to soar high

Of a pride to be in seclusion.

The entity finds a flawless liberation

From a collection fraught with lies

From a society distressed in lust

From a quaint wholeness of wiles

From a perfect choir of vilification.

The kite floats leisurely

In swings of moist breeze

Before it meets the final descend

Far away from a faceless form of humanity—

A brimful deceit of mankind.