A scornful afternoon of meagre delights, and deceiving
open-ended stories
Mustn't you be afraid to have lived one, and to have been a part of
none?
Suggestions hint at the lives getting meaningless, seemingly
superficial,
days in the Sun that have
hatched in the Rye?
Pitiful medieval notions guide us, and penultimate doom out
rightly stares
Humming lullabies and preaching age old jargons won’t lend
you, your share
Compromising dethrones the tradition of complacency, the
world dwells in, and objectively it stares
Conscious efforts from one to another, become promises benign,
sworn to be unfulfilled,
Shunned and stumped,
Breached and broken,
Shouldn't you ask for answers, as to what, why, when and
culminated where?
O’ fellow, victim of desires and dreams, take what you have
from this point, and
While you haven’t got the strength to level what might be
your share,
Remember gravel, hard and beaten to the ground stays longer
than sand will in the complete power of your palm, realize, fair and square.
