From within, glowing in all directions
The pit of the mango pulses
Touching strange forests and alien strands
Self numbed into nothing, nothingness
All senses are divested from self
A wearisome travel to borderless regions
There the life nectar freezes still
Like hail stones roll, rolling
All the feelings and emotions are roused
A burning sunburst on bare heads
Searing a presence that will not be doused
From their infinite perch stars drop, dropping
Trapped like mangy wild beasts
Scurrying in every which way
Toil animals quivering at each whip snap
Waiting for the sun to die, dying
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