La bohème

Cometh she, from lost civilizations
Through turmoil and mayhem
Covered in dust, wrapped up
From stories lost in sea and sand
Stillness carved from stones
Tales fabricated in fascination
In presence, the light, now
Mysterious face and its smile
Profiles of humanity and its functions
Not enough, not suffice, not long
These dynamics of creation,
As we travel from one place to another
These finger prints and its silence
I hear her speak, in stillness
Barricaded desire to live
Formulation of justice, from
Another world, another view
Too many questions, answers few!

Kashkin