Saturday, April 23, 2016

Madland

Land of surplus, I land my flight here
To add another drop to overflowing brew

Room of unknown, I find my place here
To facelift my pride to faceless freedom

Traffic turf, I bring my activity
To merge myself in unending commutes

Circus of prospects, I carry my hope
To heap my stone on towering domes

Chamber of insomnia, look to rest with you
To shut the slack and the junk

Park of high-rises, checking my depth
To leap from the skies

Kingdom of missing, here are my directions
To power my sense to miss the pointless

Strange - this place, I convey my freaks
To spy my bounds in boundless game

No comments:

Post a Comment

Her

Her annoyance was like pleats of her saree.  Layered, symmetrical, tucked gently under a calm surface  Yet on days it was a riot of asymmetr...