Elancharan இளஞ்சேரன்

soft phony faces looking at a shot of living the high life

stand by my bedside and watch the body wither

deviate and descend into the well of cerebral matter

divine by the hour night’s terrors given a taste of moksha

last light we celebrate the renaissance of touch

step outside and let the shadows guide you to the edge

where the flesh is loved in my personal darkness

king’s gaze crows scatter for cover under shadows

alongside the summer river alone with my thoughts

close enough to convince the ghosts in the mist