a falcon it swoops. its eyes are a pair of visual images of wildness. its micro-mind stretches into voracious rapture while soaring with its prey. a cobra it wriggles within the claws, a closed space for discharging opposite energies – to eat, to exist. a pedestrian the cobra slips out and lands on his shoulder. Winding, it bites on his neck. already a half- carcass, it succumbs. later, he too. a meandering death – from the sand, through the air, then downs straight to his neck – out of the blue. art of death death seems an art in diversity. ultimate charm of creation is in its abstract end: many make it awkward with anxieties arising from blood and gold; a few, serene through realization.