‘Strange’ has been the word,
So familiar that it flows along
Yet, at time, it clings
To that realm of strangeness,
That I rush to get along
The saving grace that is,
The ‘Grace’ would glow
When the higher reincarnation,
Would bathe the ‘Soul’
The wait has to be
Imminent
To the next level of,
The predictive adoptability
For now,
The ‘Strange’ is
Mundane,
To the existing level of,
The hunching sensibility
Though no burden yet
The saving grace that is,
The chaos runs deep
Words transform,
To disappear,
Somewhere in the,
Courtyard of the hollow
When the black feeds the ‘complete’
‘Strange’ has been the word,
So familiar that it flows along
Yet, at time, it clings
To that realm of strangeness,
That I run to catch it fast
Did you say ‘strange’?
Strange is the word
So familiar now
Though,
Strange was the moment
When it all started
October 3, 2009
(With changes)