Missing tiles, missing colours,
From a tapestry of flowers,
Ensnaring foolish eyes,
With fathomless black ice.
And the flowers bloomed in full,
On the edge of vortices’ pull,
Yet the petals are still and velvety,
In the wake of destructive gravity.
But the eye is much too bewitching,
Vacuum monochrome beseeching,
Hypnotizing, spellbinding and eternal,
An entity forever dysfunctional.
Still, shadows are quick to vanish,
Away with dismal anguish,
If only irises bloom in pairs,
Like the first blush of dancing flares.
Tong Chan Ray, Negeri Semblian.