Poezja

The siren whirled passed the ear
Contempting in flurry care
Yet never have it to declare
What truly lies beneath such fear.

And rightly so! Do not reveal
Such horror, and drama, and mindless - ordeals.
Herein deny the existence of such monstrous - things.
Dare not tell nor read past stolen wards.

It's crime, they say.
When they look into the eyes
And whispers float in each other's ears
That who shalt know and commit such a sin
Shall face retribution
In its highest decree.

Crime! They say.
Accusations stolen the surprises
When asked to give prove that life has no reprises.
And then here and now
Say, who declared such laws?
Of broken mandates, of social disorders,
Who shall damn me
Of unforgivable sins?

That said; broken voices chime in to kiss
Nought compassion, of losses left to demise.
Stolen the gazes of confusion,
Such fools, they are. Every one.
Who kneels to the naked king
In an even naked kingdom
Under the 'guise
Of golden throne rooms.

Shallow is Life
Yet Deep is the Mind.
Though we prefer to stay in clear waters,
For it gives us a sense of comfort,
And here their lack of will
Shall replace the filled,
But only ever so imaginative.
Is it from another cruel place?

Crimes! They say once more.
What threatens the social disorders
Will once more rise together
And declare war on those anarchies.

Foolish - Foolishfoolishfoolish minds.
Shallow and short and slain by swords
Never to explore the vast treasures
Because they call it Devil.
Dismissive of all unsymmetrical,
We are such that narrows
Down to the straws
Stuck in plastic bowls

And cups, and mugs, and jugs.