Life has a junction, over and over
a repeating lunacy
without adieu
simple in nature, yet subtle
chaotic and sad, yet utopian too
Words run amuck with random thoughts
as always,
they ring loud, and simply true
a damp spirit, with a purple hue
Ruthless characters with evil eyes
surrounding gardens, where hope ensues
its sorrow and pain
in every sight
no happiness or reprieve in any pew
Facts blurred by the virtue of evil
crafts of deceit emerge from the devil
eyeing a goal of eternal oblivion
it’s you, it’s I, stuck in the cycle
round and round of iniquity vile!
-By Tariq MaQbool
