(57) My being in this blotted world.

57) My being in this blotted world.

I am private with my privations,
You tend to be public in perambulations,
of your untethered moorings and moods,
subservient to sarcasms and unholy hoots,

I know not how to adjust with the ambivalent state,
of confusions and collocations when in spate,
when suffocations thaw myself and spirit
like wriggling fish on the land to surrender to fate;

My HOUSEHOLD GOD clears all my inhibitions,
like the blotting paper absorbs the sediments
of imaginations and intrusion into my existence,
Pervasive of HIS RADIANCE and Exuberance.