Hope

Rain, mist, clouds...
I like golden rays the most.

The unbending geometry
almost like an answer
to the Tibetian invocations
written on skyward flags.

On days
when the soggy sky bleeds pale
they burst forth
like ressurances
from the far off Atlantis

Unknown to the barred windows
breeding rot and pain
beyond rain, mist, clouds

Prayers reach
the golden chariot of seven horses.