The vapid churning afire
Gurgling
streams with desire
Sumptuous,
Endearing,
Enticing,
Beguiling,
Monotonous.
This vapid
churn
This rapid
turn
Moving in
circles
This selfishness
This crassness
This bitterness
Yonder and
yonder
Like a
lamp lit
Below
the stars
All the innocence
Charred
to death
All the
pretence gone
I see my
folks
Striving
rapidly
firmly
confidently
towards the cesspool
Of muck and dirt.
Confident,
brash, crass, vulgar
The accumulation
has started
The vapidness
of it all
Such is
the system
Ready
To embrace,
To encircle,
To enslave.
All this
muck and dirt
At
times confounding
At
times bewildering
At
times bewitching
At
times murderous
With constant
assault on soul
Trading peace
and goodness
with
scraps
Of some currency notes,
And some goods for comfort
But is
there no heaviness?
In heart
Or on
the soul
Or the
Unbearable lightness of being
Has evaporated
it all
The
innocence,
The
goodness,
The
purity
What will
remain when all this is gone
This business
of living
Of surviving
Of being
a part of the murderous mob
Will extract
its price
May be
some day
The soul
all hardened up
Will give
way
Till it
has lost everything
And has
become a part of the crowd.
This vapidness
of it all
When I would
have murdered myself
Completely
Staring at
the blood oozing from my veins
Flowing into
the muck
When my
blood becomes one with the muck
And the
muck becomes one with my blood.
Then I
shall freeze
To Death
