Who doth fight; Why doth fight

Hush blooms in the grey haze;
The hands of a mind portrays.
A dingy gloom prevails in him.
A gaudy hymn for an unfinished work.
Burning closet of foolish dreams-
To loose fragments in scatters.

The clock which time unwinds
From revolving to a straight line
Ticking senses to sum up
Sentences yet to begin

Where remains the clue;
The clue in the spinning maze.
And who doth guide the light beams?
An uphill battle for sinlessness.

-A
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