How long till your
tongues stop
spitting arrows of
assumptions of
delusional malice
against me?
Does it feel good,
to stoop so low
for your apparent
ego,
that you deceive
yourself into spewing
lores of lies?
These arrows will miss
me, as I sway to
my nature of mind.
And you will go on
for,
how long?

Time slips away,
as you prepare my
farewell;
And I drown into
the ocean of thoughts,
unprepared, alone
as I gnaw at my cage
relentless,
as the pomp
is heard outside.
The wings cut off and
freedom seized for
the shallow prestige
of the vultures.
The words given, now
wash away with
the water,
as I desperately try to
find it,
and identity and faces
changed for the
benefit of some.
The boneless spectators,
watch as I am
made to dance,
in the show of Honour.
As I become "dignified".

Observe my emotions,
as they cascade in motion,
contrary to the notions
of the cultural potion.

As it changes like seasons,
and you call it treason
against the potion demons
who never won.