Destiny Of Worldly Tunes Poem by Ayni Poet

Running through big circles of fire,
Going as far as I can
On the velvet trail I walk and weep,
Feeling the wind tenderly swaying
On my back.

I reach the white marbled piano,
Wishing countlessly to play
Entrancing tunes of summer, of glee.

But all wondrous virtues are obscured today,
It is wearing a mask of thorns and
Encased troubles of the mundane,
Dressed in black rose petals and dry garlands.

I press them with gloved hands and hurt me,
My fingers are springing bloody tears,
On the cold flaps, cracking steeply
Like a crystal stone merciless struck by a wall.

A gray cloak falls over my shoulders,
Stings me with thousands of needles
And crushes the spiral of a bare heart,
Which for a breath failed to remember
The immanent, blessed exudation
Of the Holy Grail.