 |
| You are my fountain. |
My fingers love to run at the arm of the chair
on which a mutated man is enthroned--
who wants to be the king of his world;
a one-man kingdom.
He sits like a movie audience--
ensconced in his spot
and engrossed in a film
where he is both the
hero and the villain.
And while on his throne,
flashes of everything he has touched,
saw and heard possessed his senses
until everything went into a halt.
He is now looking at an invisible wall.
