The subway is a moving maze
Of morbid faces full of daze
As their glances eat me up
My anxiety says," Wassup!?"

There is blur that I always gain
To fit in,to needlessly sustain
As I become a mist of my past
I hope I breathe in me at last

Still December fog hugged the lonely night
The razor-sharp gale held my tissues tight 
Dogs howled and so did my aching heart
Like the torment caged in Van Gogh's art

To love and to lose
To hang by a noose
Was never in vanity
For what is love?
Beauteous insanity.

Yet I shall love once again
But this time not in vain
For there is no great joy
If you and me are so coy

Listen Oh! My dear love,
"Beyond the skies above,
The joy that heaven beholds
Does not even come close
When strangely love unfolds.

Before the wax wings melted and Icarus fell
Before Lear sobbed and Duncan's last yell
Until Faustus paid for all his misdeeds well
Whenever heaven frowns and merry is hell
Destiny knew," In due course Time will Tell."

Hugging all the ancient lores I heckle my conscience
Tiresias says,"My man,dull your innocent defiance."
I asked,"Is your Wifi struck down again by cheap gin?"
"Na bro,I just forgot to put the postmodern plug in"
Brochild,you seem to romanticise Eliot and Arnold again?"
"What else is the paracetamol for this spiritual pain?"
"What pain?Aren't you medicated by poetry reels?"
"Didnt the Doctor say I must go for the feels?"

"Am I the only one who sees the changing permanganate sky?"
"Dunno?Maybe Keats would if he sees the Nightingale fly?
My Brochild,You must read less books.All The Muses are dead.
Let me DM the Doctor- You awoke early again from the bed."

"When did they die? Why am I immune to the modern synthetic sedative?"
"Shhhh...Take a puff from this oxygen can - a pulmonary macerative."
"That's cannabis. Are you for real? I already prayed to Nietszche to get killed by cancer soon!!"
"Brochild! Listen! We are all dead - Writing Midnight poems.Smoking in sulltry afternoons."