Midnight I enter my house like this. Drawing

 (Reflect poetry in it -) One day I went out of my house as a poet In the midnight - And I saw an unknown person that looked like an old philosopher Who was going through hard time of the life. In that situation I was not able to understand that he is the same human being whom I had seen earlier. I have seen him go groveling along toward the same course many times before? If the time is not favorable, a human doesn’t behave well. Said / the poet - Sometimes truth doesn’t remain the same . I have no close relationship with him, But I feel like taking him out with a deep dispute . The things so immense for a poet With hope that he will not die In the midnight . Now I have come back to my house , and am about to sleep And / Something pokes me out of a sudden Have I fled away with silence? Or the poet dies instantly perhaps for a while , Between some other here and there. I realize - An unbroken fact After a while , I found that the poet remained not with me I kept a face as frightening as an animal Sometimes Cruel / Sometimes - Sly and small.

Drawing:Pastel on Bronze

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:16 W x 22 H x 0.5 D in

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