Rhythm & Redundancy

Had been a while,
Away from my old friend.
Who could have come to rescue,
The eyes were dim and the plot was dead.

A shift might have occurred,
But I still wake up with a grieve.
Breathing ain’t helping and profanity is fucked,
Easy being flattered for a sweet phony naive.

He thinketh its Shakespeare’s drama,
Also enacts as gullible Macbeth.
Fears the uncertainties and truths of dear life,
When there’s nothing therein but death.

So uniquely won, every little thing,
Not the eternal giver but his gifts are sought.
Letting him go for a fleeting excitement
While so shortly, everything is to be lost.

When mystery of life was posed,
Chose for wars in heaven.
Letting no stars their own little sway,
My mailed fist chose for possession.

Bewildered and afraid of this beautiful life,
Let there be a cage and there was a prison.
I meet no god nor the fucker who is letting me suffer,
Sought in you for so long,
Maybe because I harbour none.

Ps: No Shakespere was read.