O this evening late, as if fate, and this travel...

O this evening late,
As if fated,
A fate,
And a travel
Right
To the scape drenched by wet moist light,

O this evening
A song within
Generating
A cool breeze flowing
A jolly of a vision closing in,

As if a lighted beam,
O how me gets blessed
By Her
The Keeper
Of soul...

As if me have
Become
A scented flower...
Caught a glimpse
By the moving light,

And the candid Evening late
Spelling a cast
On my fate...

Only to create...
Songy mirth,
A poem left open...
For more births,

Only to flood
The lighted streets...
Where exact at a point,
Holiness her gets mixed
In my blood...

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