Untitled

As the voice inside croons ,
to the distinct dis"harmony" ,
To the jiggle of the world I swoon,
Out of step , out of place .

Crouching into the forbidden spaces ,
Uncouth - remorseful advances ,
But "truth" s an unforgiving mistress ,
disheveled , bruised , in chronic distress !

To say that is all already been unsaid ,
To guzzle up the spirit of a deserted mind ,
Yet I collect the bones from the closet ,
set a new journey like discovering the Indies !!

The boy did grow up ,unfortunately
In an unconscionable world in deep slumber .
A schism still pervading ,
and a dream's still waiting , intruding , invading ...