The yellow sun cut into halves is still the sun that can shine.
The golden moon is a mirror of the silver clouds;
Only we do not know how the night sky hides its show.
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Windows have pain that only doors can open.
When the door opens itself to pain, it invites a multitude of eyes.
Locked is the desert; sandstorm is uninvited.
Fiery-eyed Bhairav is an artist's temptation
where passion meets creation.
