Beyond fringes of half lit moon
lies my garden
of half formed shapes
torn in multitude ways
Heavy with dark clouds
I can’t help but wonder
at their eternal struggle
struggle to break away or
is it the intrusive arm of the light
I wonder… lying in my couch
as these lines pour out of my pen
in a frenzy before they cease
Or is it just a dream
repeats itself in every moonlit night
with strange colours of my passion
is it the garden out from my soul
or is it my soul lying beyond fringes… I wonder