Writer and Garden

When I was yoked

I'm often longing for the flair flakes

With fire flaring the dark

Fiddling around with fictitious lines

Fending off fastidious mind——

Nearly——a cold life like fir

For a common nirvana

——they said

Every time they flaunt thee——

for your finite coolness——like Buddha

They never found your fallacy

Your facade never crazy

What about being epic and examplary

With all your fidelity——fiery!