Transmuting Myself By The Hearthside

By Atraiu Gupta

day by day, the midnight shadow grows;

motionless i sink— in the summer warmth of my cottage smoke,

tempting and dreaming in this rising yellow night;

plucking flowers that bloomed by the blood of man,

in the lands of snow beauty, faraway from human sight.

my ears— they remain drunk with care,

and my words— dry as the drops of rain under moonlight.

my body— it leaves me with this eternal spirit of solaced darkness,

which grows like a pulse of desire, drawn to a cremated half moon

and the gray purple clouds, shrouding the skies in delight.

my skin— it sleeps with marble cupids and mosaic ceramics,

fragmented from the throes of midnight.

in midst of this illusion of entombed craving,

my wilting heart craves for evanescent contentment.

By Atraiu Gupta