GREY IMAGE OF BLUE CLOUD- II

Beyond the barricaded white, 
Distinguishing the system from the surrounding,
Is a view conceivable to every eye that is not blind,
Every pupil that opens and every iris that has colour. 
Through the white bars,
I see an image that has always failed to
Put a cessation to amazement and surprise.

Across the rigid, white panes is 
An image which is palpable, real. 
An image that has spoken to me always.
In this dread of trying to 
Conjure up beautiful verses and 
Phrases to describe the scene 
That these view-perceiving set has always encountered, 
Is a trial to make things work out in the end. 
There is an attempt to keep the decadent alive, 
In the image I still look at. 
In the midst of wanting to explode and 
Show the viewer the sounds and 
Make them listen to the views, 
I paint a picture. 
I paint a picture for you 
To see how the conciliatory notes and the Magnanimous words that transpired between us,
Have only decimated the soul, right at the core. 
As I look at this image, in front of my bare eyes:
Real, palpable and succinct, 
There's a deference I show to you.

I see it slowly fade and immerse
In the backdrop of its being. 
Beyond the white bars,
Deluged with emotions and feelings that pierce this soul, 
I finally rest my verse, "Grey Image of Blue Cloud."