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Praveen Tom Poem
The book says, people have no face and we have no eyes.
Yet we are expected to drive through.
Irony at its best.
The enemy at our gates, feeding onto our fear.
Either we fight till the end or bite the dust.
The garden of Eden flickering before my eyes.
Am I hallucinating ?
I have lost my innocence.
This world is messed up.
We are zombies tripping in the dark.
My dagger, pointing at your heart.
I can't see your hands.
Is this evanescence or am I intoxicated ?
My thoughts are disintegrating.
There is a hole in my brain.
A knife is struck at my back.
I am here, because you didn't kill me.
The pressure for survival is weighing down heavily.
I am hearing voices in my head.
The phone is ringing, maybe it's a gunshot or the archangel.
My senses are clouded.
Maybe death is deliverance.
Only time can tell, what the real deal is
Copyright © Praveen Tom | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Praveen Tom Poem
Came here without my consent
Ended up in a party aboard Titanic
Going South, fast.
What is Pursuit of happiness?
Feeding your pleasures relentless?
Or following your ambitions, towed by opportunity.
Or it could be staying still, comfy in your cocoon.
Skeletons in my closet and dirty laundry
Making up my legacy, mea maxima culpa
I am sum of all anomalies.
I couldn't exit, with my full consent.
What is life trying to prove?
Looks pathetic, with all survival strategies, thanks to serendipity.
Randomness institutionalised, only to crash and burn at every turn.
Senses competing for primacy, leading to tyranny of wants, becoming a destiny unto itself.
Leaving numb and indifferent.
Sensations so fleeting, unsure about default jealousy.
Could be yet another emotional maze, that l stare at.
Copyright © Praveen Tom | Year Posted 2021
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