© Fatheek Aboobucker The claypot filled of me as words unadorned, Paints the fragrance of this very dusk on the inner wall An alleyway furcated of unknown Enlarged as adjoin-able in me the self, Writes the note of this very dusk "Path is the destiny" Then through the scars of decayed window Bursts as light The great word Imperishably coloured of thee