Over Observant

Oh how despicable is the sight of life

The stage it sets out for you

The inches and yards it calibrates

Puts a full cooked meal, to be eaten

But errands to be completed before

Leaves you with a solemn sense of security

That your one touch can turn things to gold

With mere contemplation and inner scrutiny

For no one, not even your soul

Is ready to ameliorate the burns of friction

Between the prepared and underprepared

Settling you in a tight leash

Controlled by your palate so bourgeois

Behold and Beware

For how despicable the sight of life can be

THE FURY OF ONE’S MIND

The fury of one’s mind

Blinded by the innocence, of

The incandescent eyes, speechless and lulled

The cold blood racing through the loins

Filling her desolate anima so forlorn

Every inch of movement, swiftly monitored

Under the penchant of the lustrous envy

The fury of one’s mind

Taken aback by the apathetic civilization

Prejudice sown and harvested as staple

That the dwellers are obtuse and indifferent

However expecting a contrary adoration

For their pompous self gratification

Living with dignity, a handful of years

The fury of one’s mind

With a rage lacking definition

At a mere cost of lucidity in life

Their eminence gaining a greater relevance

Yet they enterprise to outclass their clones

With a vigour never to be seen again

And a breathless mutiny as a proof of evolution

The fury of one’s mind