A Poisoned Lance Pounced and Trounced

Surrender your burdens To the feet of providence When down and out in gardens Sweeping seas of indigence That swamp your every mood For reasons unknown Understood and misunderstood under the hood Worn in low moods known To trigger bouts of doubts Brought about by the entry In dens where malfeasance sprouts In the spiritual territory Invaded and broken into pieces For the umpteenth time In sorrow slices and hisses That struggled to climb Back to the stability and tenacity hitherto believed To return to shape Every time the underserved grieved To raise hair on the nape Of your red neck in the face of a serpent Who offered you temporary relief From aeons spent and misspent Whose divinity became the thief You chose to worship in a vain hope To find succor and comfort On the sliding slope That tore your fort and cut avenues from which no further fake support Could emanate In real time To debunk and detonate The myth whose mime Left you in tears Clutching at a straw in the raging storms That in your soul rejection and dejection injected burdens of fears Ensconced and entombed in homes Where you sought succor But reaped rejection As your world collapsed at the rancor That in the end couldn’t spare you the rage of a poisoned lance Set to pounce To put an end to your misery With every virulent ounce that could no longer bounce Like a yoyo as you succumbed victim the stealth of usury and penury.