I watched as the golden dawn spilled over our bodies
In the secrecy stillness of the Druid landscape,
Where Hibernia hath spilled flesh underneath our own
Only for us to sulk in our lyrics of gluttonous apathy.

Memories decimating the mind and man
Through cascading, deteriorating mess
Of sinewy synapses abridge the mind
From reliving, reminiscing our Mumbai.

Deciphering its puzzling frontages
Until our conscious abandons what was whole.

Tendency to lead astray
Are my compulsions to fail
My heart, which I've given
And to fold
My hand, which I've taken
Unto the random deck of absurdity
Choking on the verbosity
Of those knee-deep in rare synonyms    
Without the obscure idea of a foundation
Standing precariously on sharpened edges
With my name swathed in the blood roots
Tying the rambling Oak
To suffer in unlit ignorance of a new age.

Herein lies catacombs of ages past
Where sanguine spread from the lashed spine
And coated echoing halls of their superior peer
Below the shredding tempers of a desert wind.

Omnipotent fires of archaic Gods
Charring the souls of petty architects
Slaved under their jeweled prophets
Were not the scribe's footnotes of time.

Princess of vanity in self-proclamation
Who thought the world a stepping stone
And myself beneath the moss.

A subject of egoistic lifestyles
Believed deviant from the masses
In a bohemian uniform of delusion.

To pride in self-loathing obscurity  
Was a facade veiled over her
Drowning in Sauvignon.