A Faceless Portrait

Never-ending paths seemed to be ending At yet there was no indication Of a destination, a fruitful conclusion. Realizing this he said Come, Let's try to locate Our lines of fate on the wind's palms! And then azure waters Frozen still from the dawn of time Reverberated into expanding circles on the surface. When the yellowed desert-like womb of time Saw the birth of the sprouting Shoots of woe He was busy Watching from the sea shore Sails of boats. The burning sand on the rims of his eyes Had become wet. And then it happened Sitting on the other side of the wall of ennui He was caught savouring The taste of wind. From that day onwards Hiding their faces in wraps of sorrows People figure out the lines of his face From a distance.