My Hunting Song

I’m always amazed by the power of words.

Poems

When shall the sun be rising here?
How long must I keep postponing
my apocalypse, the promised rebirth?
Do these beads of sweat mean a thing?
   

The moral compass of the world
is all over the place, old age
decays, while wide eyed Innocence
falls in love with Fraud and Deceit
and Empathy is cruelly drowned
in blind gratifications of the Self! 
    

As the heavens are pushed by space and time
and the whole universe expands,
I sleep for eighteen hours a day
and go hunting for my staple words at night!

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