Monodoloris

the gods of the worlds retreated to the mountains in the winds…
the demigods remain over the plain, quarreling over petty cosmopolitics.
the ogres had never lived above the grounds.
and above the ocean of lingering thoughts, belonging to the dead God.
I alone fly free above the cuckoo-clouds, for I am a bird Garuda---bearing up the cup
to my favourite Lady beyond Space-and-Time,
to penetrate the black curtain of my Doom!
all the way from East to West, I am the radiant, burning Sun---coursing towards my inevitable death and reunion with her!
The purple fog up rises…and the fated night cometh!