Thursday, February 17, 2011

Inanimate.

The paths, why walk them?
The beings, why meet them?
Changed direction, dissimilar inclination
Doesn't halt, does not sojourn.
Why walk? Why meet?
Why keep going on?

The vagabond, the tramp
Galavants about
Carries all the sickness of life
Wins some, loses some
loses more, wins more
Happiness pricking like a knife


Every crossroad;
A new face, a new story told
Every crossroad; 
A new melancholy also sold
The impatient.
The insecure.


Chaos, Uncertainty and a Hurricane of a way
Silence, Muteness on a Path sans any say
The wife.
The whore.
The impatient.
The insecure.


The name; comes and goes in waves
Reaches the shore, ends up a knave
The misadventure.

The failure.
The wife.
The whore.

The impatient.
The insecure...