With the sliding of hand
Every second passing by;
Felt drown in whirl of sand
Away from commotion, he lie.
Thinking of past in cubbyhole
Cloying the mind with stories
Still perplexed, though life rolls
Writing another allegory.
Unknown about offerings of life
Every past, surrounds as fetter;
Fighting with own strife
Head & eye down with deter.
Strolling in woods of dreams
Long ago heard those paean;
Stuck like stucco, nothing that gleams
Every hope turning barren.
No vibraton passes through
Air which envelopes, is callous
Leaping over present, which is true
No oomph, an empty canvass.
Neither waits for compassion
Nor lured by worldly shimmer
Keeping away from close liasion
Heard & felt those cluck & tremor.
