Given a paper
Given a pen
Suddenly I see
My life going dry
Mystified though was I
But who to tell me why?
Possessions I air
A thick despair
When all was lost
To paltry cost
Me playing the host,
Burnt my breath
But succumbed to
The resulting wreath
Created by hallucinations
That life had paved around me
For my careless serenity to see.
My losses to self
Propelled me beyond the smokescreen.
Disenchantment to all the tenures
Entangled, again I hated being.
And thus-
In the battle of wits
I win often
To realize in parts
It’s not a gain.
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