MELTING OF TIME

The candle of time
Melted
Not by the its own flame
But by the heat
The spectre spread around

It surpasses
Its own beginning
Otherwise
Why it looks hazy
When the looker
Flash a static-vision still

All display
In crack and crakers
The enticer of pristine
Got hold of
The past, the present
And the future long

Many more tenses
Lay hidden
Behind streaks
Coming out
From the black fumes.
Melting of time,
Still has to say something more