detours of desires
are not the pathways
on which one ever finds
peace that beguiles
and luls one to assume
that the end is near,
the fire is now determined
to consume all the leftover memories
that were the seeds
of my poems
delete them,
lest they envelop the air
which we breathe
and so may emerge
a being that is absobed
completely by the passion
of perseverence in vain