Mornings come and mornings go

Mornings come and mornings go.
Ceaseless winds timeless blow.

As kismet rolls its enduring gall.
Another domino tumbles falls.

In the merge of days and nights.
Or the urge of dizzying heights.

Awed we gape unfolding paths,
barren scapes, yon greener swaths.

In Hedonic shadows collecting debts.
Karma silent prances, weaving nets.

Along rut and creek of passing days,
jilted songs and jarring forays.

Oblivious we sail on endless fret.
Lonely to hush of the last sunset.