I sit beside thy burning haystack
Inhaling the pellet smoke,
Dry, throat threshing
Slithering down my sternum

.

I sit beside thy burning
haystack,
with hopes nil.
your broken home of mud-bricks
begs to heal.

.

Could only gather rocks;
rituals of rubble,
drawing caricatures of moksha
upon your chaos;
in-exhaustive entropy

.

the smoke;
from thy burning haystack;
dissapearing,
evaporating,
beyond my reach,
so excruciating.