|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
Viewer's kindly note that all the poems are written by Vishak Acharya .All rights reserved.No part of this site may be reproduced in any form or any other means without permission of vishak
kindly click on the titles to view the full poem
1) THE HOUNDS OF WINTER(recognised by topwritecorner.com)
3) WHEN THE BELL TOOLS (recognised by topwritecorner.com)
4)THE STARS THE SKIES & THE SUNNY BLUES
13) GONE FOREVER(YOU ARE STILL THE ONE)
23)ANGEL WHO DELIVERS THEM ALL
You Are Visitor Nos:
you may mail Vishak Acharya at acharyavishak@hotmail.com
The dew of the night dampens the early soil
moistens the lofty and blemished dawn.
so welcomes an another day of pain and bane's.
my winter has just but begun.
you have me cold and numb
can hardly feel you pall my very veins.
have me frigid, for am comfortably numb.
its just an another sordid winter.
am trapped in the gist of your remorseless gales
cocooned to the depths of your polar paws.
dare not confront the angst and fury of your squall.
its just another spiritless winter.
the air serene and placid in retort
the storms of winter have me reeling.
stung, the anguish of your frosty forays.
but than, my winter never does recede.
let the warmth and the winter castigate me
shall not the winter freeze a blazing me.
acknowledge not the blemishes of your fiendish ways.
shut me out in a cauldron, for a long long winter.
see specks in the clouds tall and grey.
and you in the horizon distant and playful.
thaw the despondency that clog my very veins.
but, my autumn has just but begun.
The grey with the gauntlet windblown
and the thunder boil thy fury.
Forget the immediate present
and go sailing with jury.
They quote no bible
they promulgate no crystal cause.
It’s one endless exhaustive jog.
Pardon me your highness
it’s something that stays on.
A scale that knows no balance
a weight that knows no bounds.
Thy prefer to stay bat blind
and, a cloak choking for life would help.
Barristers in blazers with the seams
unfastening those threads bare
keep harping in the dark
if only to scare the shadows
Assuage the strained camaraderie’s
never know when he would hit back
A jester in court of kings.
An annalist in the temple of doom
a knight of plume in a parliament of canines.
Ouch! Wish thy was born deaf mute.
Volley and ace with those human fates
prod on, the hen that lays golden
ape the men behind those lifeless frames.
The courts, a thing of the past.
A relic, that outlasts it’s purpose
and a world that needs no law
and every man, his own master.
An autumn of steadfast disregard lapses yet
chimes in a habituality fastidious.
Strives, to stave off a feel lackadaisical and pestilential.
Needs no beckoning though!
Casts off aspiration of an another sultry winter.
For its the day the bell tolls
We stand still gazing overtly at the clouds
while paranoid figures play with subjects sketchy
and formless creamy fluffs personifying faces.
Couldn't get it right though!
Defer those alluring images to an another day
distance all those dreams, for the bell tolls.
Hustle and scamper through those city lights
and let those sagging spirits flow through.
Bubbles steaming through those long necked stew
couldn't spare it thought though!
reek in, for we fret fry and fume
we wait and hope, for its whence the bell tolls.
We orchestrate, in those frenzied nights
a brooding sense of intellect that hurts.
Lurking to the corners of every sphere
couldn't shrug it off through!
Plead, the stigma stays one
not a moment too long ,for the bell tolls
We fight it out modesty besotted.
A facade of those famed faces
stripped to the depths of skin and flesh
couldn't perceive it though!.
We wait to be made and unmade
for whom the bell tolls.
Promises of another day at the helm
prompting those ravaging tornadoes
stays blown to another time and place
now, do we see though!
wait in earnest for the settling dust.
Its whence the bell tolls.
THE STARS THE SKIES AND THE SUNNY BLUES
Cantering along those bristly hours
step ashore on the verge of a new day.
Just an another passing hour
hustling through the annals of time.
Of times submerged in those pacific blues
of a simmering blue staving off the buoyant surge.
A condor that knows no moral restraint
on a tireless flight across a stretch endless
lapping up the warmth of the mushy seas
still lost hopelessly in the depth of those ravines.
Cradles the crest ,and the tuft smothers.
Drifts on, a timeless knot of oceans
lost forever in those saga of blues.
Every day, a sojourn starts anew.
An ascent that knows no depths.
Times when, hopes overwhelm destiny.
Hope is, when a necessary evil
sees a divine light in the dark.
When light is a harbinger to a reticent darkness.
Rekindles, the once dying flame.
Dusk is, when the sun meets its waterloo.
When the streak in splendour
makes way to those lengthening shadow
that sail on waters perceptionally different.
Dusk is, when the sinking sun
makes headway the morn after.
When the simmering tides shrug off
clutches of uncertainty haunting the pristine blues.
Oh! Just an another tedious passing hour
heralds the dawn of blues defiantly different.
Speak of such clear skies
when the grey dare’nt wipe out the blues..
Where, I tread on those path, footloose
maketh for those distance of ground lost.
Was a day, when naiveté was the way.
when, exceptions rather ruled the roost.
Couldn't visualise us bereft of innocence.
Could see no face behind those masks
see no green hiding those perennial blues.
Cared not for the motive impelling those actions.
Petrifies me no end.
For, it marks the end of innocence.
Wouldn't barter it for any pleasure living
adamant to swap places with any soul loathsome
hang onto that sleeping facade
never ever let it go.
Stay dormant under those spiteful waves
don't let the tide cleanse those pink.
For, should it mark the end of innocence?
Falter at those moment of truth
dared to dream of images virtuous and innocent
compatible and in jive with the day ,present.
A life that portrays thy innocence corrupt
personifies a life with peers amongst none.
A miracle matchless for its sheer audacity.
Snubbing with abandon the sticky sludge.
Do merge, a persona that's all innocence.
A moment to reckon, when seconds eclipse
and a painless audacious jab goes unnoticed.
Thy thanks the lord for blissful ignorance.
Its just another swish speeding in time.
Curse, it didn't mince a privileged me.
Could this be the end of innocence
Freeze the night, that showers the seed of self denial.
Hold onto a glibsome self
flowers sprout, to birth is a right.
A top deflorate, is obliquely no sin.
A bud that shoots more naïve tendrils
the stumble in the block notwithstanding.
And, a saga of innocence carries on.
Step aside, its the dawn of a new day.
On which, the shadow of innocence never dawns
thy prays, for the return of the innocence.
Chancing those wings, in wait for the hour of fortune.
The clear sombrely enticing.
Forsake the warmth of the snugly straws.
Laid threadbare by the ever finicky rattle.
A plummet to the depths of incognito.
When, ascent is the only possible way out
wait in earnest for the flight of broken wings.
A eventful day one too many
a gentle gale whiffs forth, the privileged one.
Myopic claws get better of those dapper senses.
Winged no more, crumbles to earth
a redemption in pain for the winged one.
A flight that never materialises, oh! Broken wings.
Staking those youthful wings to carry on
roving across those forbidden vales.
Mushroomed a sky visibly irate.
Visionary eyes, daring a million dreams
brewing off a storm wrapped in a kettle.
Threatening to venture, those broken wings.
Prompted on by those haunting ghosts of desire
egged on, by those ever caring spirits.
A flight destined to promiscuity familiar.
Stares defiantly at those circles of futility.
Badgering on, those reticulate knot of delicate.
Threatening to break free, those broken wings.
A genial gust of frivolity beckons.
Wades forth, the passivity of a flight.
A energetic bubble blown to burst.
A flight unparalleled in realms of uncertainty.
Embracing time under those patronising spans.
A flight craggy no more, broken wings.
Shatter those constraints of a time woven fortress.
Fly on forever, broken wings
look not at the world beneath your wings
its nothing very buoyant, oh! Broken wings.
Falter not, at these moment of truth.
Fly on, for your tryst with destiny oh! Broken wings..
Gazes nonchalantly heavenwards , the colossus of Rhodes.
Feet firm on a earth , OLE and ruinsome.
Revered the helios as the god of sun.
blinks not a bat , those heavy eyelids.
Shreds not a tear , those years of endless expectancy.
Sweats not a pore , the helios notwithstanding.
Pauses not a moment , lest the grief engulf.
Queries not a question , been a willing slave.
Aloof and detached , swerves not , ever a nonagenarian.
Curious and observant at the doing of the lesser gods.
Towers above all , not quite reaching the sun.
forever nondescript as a helios would be.
Stifling the prejudiced warmth off my back
lying still, lest I corrode the night of virtuoso.
Scared to move those gauntlets to action.
The warmth of the inflated pillow simply irresistible.
Do retract those prancing claws to the safety of abominable paws.
Beckons me, the night at its hour of trial.
Dare I step out, swamp the night of its gloom and din.
Should'a daunted me scamper on all fours underneath the hangar.
The night chained, knows of no rescue
In wait for deliverance, for the one on angelic wings.
Out all alone, shouldering those frenzied expectations.
Probing those minuscule eye that pierce the dark
Sharpen the noxious fangs that sprout venom.
Decided on wrenching out the life from the nectars.
Need thou, the dark to cloak my satanic viles.
In search of an quarry basking in the dark.
Corrupt not, the darketh spirits by the merger.
Cavort not with the like, that's all thickets.
Devour with your fuming fangs, the ones who dareth.
Let the curtains slip, for it's night when dark.
Open all defences, find no offender to blame.
Been deceitful of a benign dark all these years.
Amnesiac of a self that's harbinger to all that is dark.
No way back to retrace those steps of a maiden missive.
Let the dark camouflage the deeds of the doomed one.
Beckons dark, I step out of the shadows
a reluctant me, dare not to the open.
Enslaved by the contrived legacy of my deeds.
Lucifer, you've just outgrown my midget shadows.
Still you ain't a patch on a sallow me.
Prompt me to those sullying gambits
shower liberally with aces aplenty.
A poker faced you stuns me with a prancing joker.
Lucifer, you just have a chequered me on my knees.
Cornered, nay Lucifer its no time to be pretentious.
Play me music that's obsolete this day.
Aching ears dance to your unheralded tunes.
Am a rickety rat to an unabashed piper.
Lucifer, am dancing to your clamour in exasperation.
Nay, still do tread you, those nymphet feet.
Echoing me, every sure-footed step of yours.
Embolden, when a weary me slackens just a little.
Pushing me to those corners I so very dread.
Engineer with pleasure my precipitous fall.
Nay, Lucifer you still don't hurt a sublimate me.
Questions many, which bale out unanswered.
Answers plenty ,struggle to echo a voice mine.
A conscience divided, loath to be mine.
Confess to being your revered victim Lucifer.
Nay, you can never claim to be my rightful master.
Flow through every tortuous porous veins.
Strangle me, to the last of my heaves and sighs.
Have me cuffed, a fragment of your fancies.
Don't have the strength in me to resist your advances, Lucifer.
Nay, am still wary of succumbing to your disgressions.
Been trailing the voices that abhor mine
but , never could vouch for a stoic faced winner
nor a loser submissive in defeat.
Have me ever on the run
A little runaway.
Been fiddling with trivialities for too long
mould mountains out of blocks crumbling.
But then, do stamp at those altars with vengeance.
Have me on my knees
A little runaway..
trod on endlessly on those loathed lonesome lanes.
Peeved by those voices of spite and contempt.
But , never do look beyond my immediate present.
Have me stuttering and stumbling
A little runaway.
See the storms , a long time brewing
but never do realise the proximity so acute.
Been guilty of evasion till it matters no more.
Have me a reluctant self
still, a little runaway.
Been indulgent in delusions one too many.
That merge with illusions simply imperceptible.
A genial genie answers to wishes whimsical.
Have me ever a nonentity
still, a little runaway.
Wait in earnest for the wings of deliverance
endeavour to summon those uncogent dreams.
Those we dareth not to the forefront.
Trust in a two faced rider riding a high horse.
Didn't the firmly saddled white charge the reins?
I squirm red-faced on the last of my many supper.
Nay! Did ye hear of some flowers blighted early.
Blessed are those in deep freeze in pregnated tubes.
Not an another day of anguish and failures.
Say, is it another of her endless truancies.
Still cant help looking up for those heavenly whites.
I gloat , loathing the last of my many suppers.
The dreary nights can get no more saturnine.
Burn all thy flames , still can't set alight the darketh hour.
Bawl and banter, still don't render the air frivolous.
Exert , but still can't squeeze out a drop of those listless tear.
Blind , but not quite so for I see the hovering white.
I swear those telltale patronage , for the last of my many supper.
Downright in dumps, now my most proximal to the angelic white.
Elbows numero, jostle the jaded few.
Heard of free spirits that refuse to soar ?
try shouldering blame on events unexplained in time.
A downcast self can take a shrug no more.
I fear and pray doomsday on the last of my many supper.
The screams had never been this scurrilous
nevertheless unsettling a penitent self.
Ruing the hour , I heard those expressions.
They crawl , they creep inside my brawny skin.
But it ain't hurts me no more.
Changeth many a day and hour of glory.
Been surfing the misty waters for too long.
Isolation there in the horizon is just for me.
The pale glow , sink sallow under my very presence.
Hurt, but it ain't that bad any more.
Wave and let pass those on the fast lanes.
If spirits can soar , mine better scurry.
Nevertheless soar along unsung and high.
Plead those princely claws strangle sodden soul.
Hurt's but it matters no more.
Flaming spirits that need no askance.
Free to fly in those much vaunted skies.
Break those shackles, that's just not being me.
Reigns no terror , the sky , the earth.
Reckon I care not , for it hurts no more.
Giveth all that I care to posses.
Taketh no more , for cuffed hands beg.
A captive in a web of non existent snares.
On a shore distant , still very remorse.
Hurts me , can feel it no more.
Shred those times to a million vague slices.
A million mirrors , not one reflects.
Pray those icons of misery don't reach out.
A single image , shred to fragments beyond comprehension.
Try again , it cant hurt no more.
Care to ask , if the pain still lingers.
Comfortable , for its all numb when hurts.
Dilute the tears that dareth drench me .
vexed , for now its all mirth and wooden
sigh! It cant hurt me no more
GONE FOREVER(YOU ARE STILL THE ONE)
Long to be there by side forever
a retreat to the tranquil , me and the sea
and watch those gulls soar high and beyond.
A distant flight to a strange world
a place , where they quarantine no lives.
Losing forever aches , I heard them say.
Lost all , can hear them no more.
Say , is it lonely when dark?
Isolation precedes the ghost that haunts.
Haunt the forbidden den for we need to be together.
Not in life , thrive lest in soul and spirits.
Light the clandestine torches for we need to be seen.
Unabated blows the gale that keeps us apart.
Pitchforked to a time that sprouts of abstinence.
Long to relieve those cherished years.
Bloom the flowers , wait not for the sun.
wary of events that wait to happen.
Can't wait to banished , elated at togetherness.
Live with a distance , not quite me
restrained behind a barrier, quite baffles me .
search , you are not the one , quite scares me.
Pray , I never see another face quite so agonising.
Faces and mirrors , I can never quite comprehend.
Dark and the night , I can never quite hold on to.
Life and together, never quite had my say.
To see again , never prayed quite so fervently.
Be merciful unto me O god!
For my trusteeth in thee.
Yea in the shadow of thy wings.
Will i be the refugee , you so wilfully seek.
Harbour a battered me , till the calamities are long overpast.
In Warsaw , climaxing a unbroken series of tribulations
scapegoats goaded to the ghettos , the cocksacks notwithstanding.
Take a bow before the holy sword of purification.
So goes on , century old pastime of Jew bashing.
Nothing to look back at , for the law of mosses guides them all.
Infants die , not a cry parting their parched lips
and the old men , with lips parting in silent prayers.
Tautness of the expectant gloom cast a pall of grey in the mid day sun.
pits of Babi yare , pale abjectly in comparison.
Not scared of the ghettos , for they believe in the safety in numbers.
Science works overtime for modalities to the final solution
carry on meticulously , massacres in chambers of gas.
Bodies entangled in embrace , unison in death.
Comforted , as they numerous in shallow trenches.
Cruelty unsurpassed , for the hell is right here in aushwitz.
Blessed are those persecuted for their righteousness.
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are ye , when men persecute you
rejoice and be exceedingly glad , great is the reward.
For so persecuted were the prophets before you.
The messiah will return to earth say the Zionist.
And the scattered children of Israel to their promised land.
The Zionists to some were a tribe submissive
who couldn't endure suffering in silence and dignity.
We wait in earnest , for the evil destroys evil says the messiah.
He shall send from heaven and reproaecheth me
shall send forth his mercy and his truth.
For all the paths end in the eroded hill of judia.
We shall submit to a living worse than death itself
for soon the star of David will fly over zeon.
Cuts sharp and true with marked precision
spares no corners of those chivalrous self.
Shrugs off those pointedly rugged edges
and knive till its deep no more.
Reign supreme , oh! you crazy diamond.
Carry off those boisterous opalescence , that's stench.
Pouting a glitter , exhibitionist to perfection.
Slug with vengeance , your darketh brethren.
And shine on till its gloomy no more.
Regale on , oh! You crazy diamond.
Stones glitter, and you outshine them all.
Livid and conspicuous , you make sapphires go green.
Bland and balmy , beset a vestal virgin.
Reek on , till it cuts no harder.
Retreat , oh! You crazy diamond.
Shine radiant than the most lucid ones.
Pour out audacious , than the unsavoury few.
Peeving in delight , upstage the aspiring many.
Shed dust till you are a stone no more.
Retrieve all , oh! You crazy diamond.
Of mirrors that baulk at images non reciprocating
of reflections that just wont get to the other side of you
of alluring images that transgress through all walls.
Augment till you are lone no more.
Regroup still, oh! You crazy diamond.
The feet draws a cipher on an eventful soggy sand
a disjointed pair no more.
Whence the oversqueamish one shies away in indignation.
Caring not to walk along with its ever consenting soulmate.
Wanting not to trample the soils , the now tainted one.
Willing not to be in cahoots with its iniquitous counterpart.
Disengaging itself from all that's Halloween and dark.
A smudged mirror trying to justify its sinister half.
But stands rooted still , casting impressions deeper and inelidible.
Shall stay static , all day long thence
still can't pull back a sinew of that straw leaden wares.
Shall take on the motif that's ineluctable.
But spare a moment , of introspect and self search.
Be accused of no deeds of disrepute.
No more of that shamefast conniving with those nauseate nudes.
See only patterns sketchy in his works.
In contrivance with all purblindness when the foot ventures.
Only when the blinds are securely drawn thence..
Hard to perceive
the glint that ushers light.
A face that supposedly
plays to a depraved assemblage.
Under the auspices
of those blawzy arclights
highlighting every grimace
that wasn't.
strain those sagging lines
till they scowl no more.
Pitchforking those forlorn creases
to a cursory enact.
Wiping away those very expressions
carefully fostered.
Fumbles , as he tries opening up frantically
those elusive assertions
that the potrayl befits.
Elusive still
until the last act of fraudulence.
Alas it gives way
to a melancholy simply overpowering.
Last's out
the recalcitrant abject performer.
Will his might
to conceal a assailable self
beneath the warmth
of a snugly canopy.
Still don't see
the conscious self performing.
Staggering possibilities of pretence mimicking life.
Parts never, the stain from a colour splattered canvas.
Tread on a conglomerate of nidorous stench.
Seek to stumble upon a straying bit of incense
that could make it's way through those clogged spithole.
Rendering a frugal remorse evanescent.
Can whip ye a sober red of sparkling wine
brewing tipsy toed from it's dour bottoms
bubbling from under the sotted sweat of tiger.
Can't hold no silver, the water of life.
Weary of creeping in those endless veins of insobriety.
Stoned, obtention of the delirious senses can wait.
What shan't is the shrug if despondence in the offing.
Abject in surrender, the jug bitten one,
drowned out by those three sheets to the wind
so passes an another of those harrowing nights
in the sublime depths of free flowing bowl.
Very thought of seeing through another hour of dark
to a hastily arranged culmination of sorts
"shall free the sprit from it's infirmity
and the inebriates from his bacchanal ways"
bubble and guzzle no more
a cageling to an obstinate cork.
Shall liberate the bottled moonshine from it's languor
for ye are the nectar of desolate blues.
Keep in abeyance the inclemency of winter
keepeth the warmth sweltering for an another day.
Rust at length dwarf the barbed shields
breaks not the shackles of a fiendish parry.
In tenterhooks , the stockade that reeks of bondage
shred , raw and smells of oil and flesh
and of nectars that sprout red and gory
dons a ghastly cap of terror in all mirth.
Shoulders many a legacies of well intended fiascos.
Shattered lies many a dream that don't see the dawn.
Swamped are , many a leisurely fly by the miserly dragnet.
Crucified many a jestuians , by the maligned cedar.
Immortalised many a mortal that dareth fly.
Speak of cowardice within these fortified walls.
See them crawling for ages on all fours.
See them again , plastered on flower bedecked walls.
Streaks not a ray of yellow that harps of freedom.
Unnoticed blows though , a few scant breeze
flows of libertine , torpedoing them through.
Heard of walls that stand for them all
and of bricks that crush their forsaken zeal.
Stands a lame lamppost signifying an everlasting singularity
still thrives within , the spirit that pulverise the green palisade
releasing those stacked volumes , a barricade no more.
A pall bearer to those sanguine rights ,pillar to post.
Stood there inane, a picture of stark indifference
and then I saw you, a sheet whiter than the palest moon.
Unsure and tottering, a wobbly pair of tiny twiddles
that keep closing in on those seemingly discernible distance.
Hate to admit, but you had me dazed.
Stood there still, a smack of dogged indesciveness
saw you, smatter colours riotous onto that dour canvas.
Every flourishing stroke wiped away those empty spaces
filling those frames a heady mix of pang and passion.
Hate to admit it, but your rising pink turned me squeamish.
Stood there still, a sea of striking contradiction
saw you there, crimson than the fiercest sun.
swelling those bit of ravaged seas
dousing off finally, with a heavenly dip in the fading dusk.
Hate to admit, but you turned me to a pretty patch of purple.
Something thee often fancied
to be an angel who delivers them all
from all the tempests rough and inflicting.
And as a strange quirk as in an inappropriate fable
floated my strident fancies far and across.
Sadly too far and distant for Him in His world.
Lapped up ever so eagerly, the wrongful one in an another world.
What He cant see the devil perceives.
And granted thy fancies to his streak of pervert.
So am a playful putty clay in the hands that mould
as a monstrous mongrel that scareth thy master.
One who stands tall, glowing and a trite undeterred
reluctant to villanify the soft soil of heal.
Quite unmoved by those fast fading frames
of lives drifting onto a stately sombre.
Thee rides them all, their troubled days
to see them all through safe and free.
Heavens bound , a foreshadower of the vile.
Still even out with my troubled tormentor
doth all the wrong turns to be there still(when)
to be an angel who delivers them all.
Seek her, whence she flows low and gaining fast
trudge along weary, those rocky stretch of uphills
eroding those wet sands of parchment it endeavours.
High and lovely beckons she, lost dreams on search.
Quite unmindful of her shores wet and germinating.
Not quite reaching out for those arms spread in a scrupling embrace
still nestles home, in those webs of creation.
Rises from a charm, surreal and depthless
making way through those straggled veins of blue
percolating to corners remote and unearthed.
Bloom and distend every sense that possibly perceives
lights ecstasy and passion, a million fires
send her reeling, lucid and free
through those realms of possibilities, umpteen and unforeseen
lost amongst the fairies and gnomes.
A provider to what eyes dare not look out for
leading her to places, coffered in the ravines of mythical lore.
A few odd moments that realise dreams flowing forbidden.
See ya out there, far cold and remote.
Bemused ya see us forlorn and yonder
sighing short and frequent exhales at a smitten adversary.
Blemishes of white that fail to register
as doth , that springs bloom all season..
Hiding those scars that threaten to unravel
from a casually flung blanket of chaste..
could be a doyen that masquerades
all thats dark and wrapt in a spotless facade.
That, ill concealed visions dareth not erupt.
A crescent that has more to it than its unseen silhouette.
If only to counter to your vile and vicious queries..
Walks off the offender on a lonely sojourn
void and dark to all who careth see.
The ignomiable gloom that transcends us all
no more of the silver ray that harvests the skies..
Register to blur , the other illusturious luminaries.
Maybe its hiding in a garret low and dusty
could it one of its frequent tyrsts with solitude?
Else on one of its lubgersome escapades?
That might forever taint the divine one..
Time propetious now to bare them all
exists no brown mantle that clothes them.
As in a dream, unfolds a miracle quite unfathomable.
Reborn is the nectar , full and wholesome
and not a scar that abounds its brazen wrap
thought I saw a smirk escape its noble depths
could there be a dark side to the moon ?
Beneath those fiery blue eyes
flows and sprouts thick black vile and venom.
A face ye ever to dread to look back at
for ye see within , your pretentious self.
free from the ordainsd that ridicule expressions
spontaeinity and gaiety a mite archaic.
Wade within those coves of fantasy.
Shaken , for ye are still in search of that elusive self.
hastened thr'o those rituals of evolve.
Times when every figuration had its share of blighted ones
when matters not the bloom from the deep
meaning at self ye just can't perceive.
Ye feel those rebellious factions knot
see those lips pout to extremes of a snarl.
Slips away the once familiar facade
still can't deny the basic framework that abounds.
Someone defies ye with startling regularity
belittling every part of your grandiose self
unsettling the dust , ye truly claim laid.
bewildered, realise that it could only have been ye.
