In the boisterous mirth, I find my smile again
In the screeching halt, I find my flux again
I stare at the sun, into the blinding light
To find the dark spot, where the darkness is bright
In the conversations of the nuns, I find pleasure
In the jungle, the discipline is evident
On the railway track, I stage a rendezvous
I hide the stars, to see the galaxy
In the consequences I find reason
I find a conclusion in the prelude
My words are never mine for I utter none
They look into my eyes and steal the context
In the gale I find the zephyr
I find love on a minefield
Plough it for the buried hatred
I discover the invention, admire the intention
In torture, I find resilience
In inebriety, I find freedom
In poetry I find form
In me, I find the world
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