The Place

Beauty flows
In rivulets of
Ice, rock and
Haphazard smiles

Tears of undue
Joy; cried for somebody
Else- no one
Was oblivious

To bittersweet curses
Half-heartedly whispered
Amongst cries for
Justice, harsh like

The tide on New Bay
On a winter morning, but
Who is she
To question happenings

So sanguine in their
Very presence, immediate
As lying voices
Speak their truth; robustly

They depart the clutches
Of fate and mystery
And leave for the never
Never ending Place