As innocent as buds of jasmine, twilight of a falling night
offsets the nakedness of a baby moon,
the subterfuge of a slant lie.
How crooked was the conviction?
Blessing was flawless.
Only the sky had an anguished exoneration for a particular sin.
What was put out for a show was hired.
He did not want to become a spot, a speck, or an insect.
The ending of loneliness had a high price.
Give and take were insufficient.
Only giving was a gift.
Duality of ugliness shined in the mirror.
In despair, he picked up the replica of a humanoid ancestor,
who was to become a model DNA of a simian
who was not capable of becoming adulterous.