Mist by Hein Min Tun

Hazily fused into the sea of clouds;
individuality obscured amid the lurid
light of the blue unfurling endless;
selfhood, uniqueness, as if 
exiled from being, become defunct.
Beautiful forms faint in hue succumb
to oblivion in the realm of powerful grace.
Under the pleasant canopy when summer
bursts over, you will have forgotten me, 
the weightless and abstract, formed
with a diaphanous texture that resembles poignancy. 
Inevitable in the recurrence of the universal karmic cycle, Dear World, the remembrance
of me, when you wake up to see teeming
jasmines with cool dewdrops stored, 
you will, at least, feel the dregs of my aura.
I exist.

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