Dedalus’ Flight
It is not worth staying back
For my church, my family and my country
Or the moocow coming down the road
To meet me …
The artist in me craves for freedom
What if there are stubbles of beards on my face
I no longer wet the bed.
After the horizons set
The pastels will rise with me
To overwhelm the dead sun
Going round and round my life
Past and present.
Hour 16