Plundering the depth of the crevasse,
I moaned the slight of the moment,
Door remained ajar; I shuffled the pages of time,
And turned around at the sight of the sound,
Nooks and corners; of the makeshift pyre,
Remained in the silence of the carcass,
Burning slowly; the death of uncertainty,
The bellow of thick smoke rose heavenwards,
Whence the meandering thoughts paused,
I pondered upon the remnants,
Of ashes; and the aftermaths thereafter,
Of the rage and anguish,
Of the smoke and languish,
Resonant of the adobe thoughts.