A wish
I desire not a wish/a feeling ,
the Swashbuckling hero, the 
Predestined existence jumps 
and rolls amidst this vagabond:
why this life, why this movement 
battling and bayoneting, stifling 
your peace, sanguine temper?
The inerasable question is 
always there, altercation with the self,
what is happening to those,
the dead and unduly deceased,
thwarted even before they could
fully grasp their meaning of their lives?
Happening always happening,
the bat flies through the self same 
window of smoke and dangling 
cobweb , blown by the whiff of air,
may be the soot resettle elsewhere,
they don’t have a mouth to cry?
Dumb, or benumbed, oxidised
Settling in pleasant asylums
as they come their way.
I wish not a desire/ a feeling,
I wish not a desire/ a feeling.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
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