Weird Spectacle

Once upon a time
When there was a hollow sun shrouded in mystic veils
Black clouds submerging into that hollow sun
Rivers of blood flowing lazyily into the bones and skulls
As though hunger has frozen into a sinister bonfire
And the mother nature was caressing her little crowing child
I was born into her big blowing womb
Webs of fantasy spreading there in the yonder land and soil
Was I dreaming in the yellow valley
Where a breeze of yawning silence was creating shadows of weird spectacle
Or was it a nightmare blocking my voice of no-words?

Words repeated no words
All beings yet to shake their benumbed limbs
Sages have not yet pronounced the seven virtues and vices
At that time there was a thunderous uproar in the rear garden
They have eaten the forbidden fruit
There was a hell of siren in the distant valley
There was nobody to suck the honey-bee
And where they have left now for an unknown destiny
The weird spectacles have vanished into the mist.