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Apr 2015
Harboring suspicions from blinded eyes,



Acid gurgles under sugary lies.



The stranger swaying dementedly to and fro,



On rocking chair thoughts, their mind on show.



How should you react when a dagger is drawn,



Neutral, or reveal a suspicion is born.



Eyeing the ranks of human heads,



Thoughts emerging from crumpled beds.



As you cannot see the source of the shot in the dark,



So you only hear the tune of the singing lark.



Consipiracy theories, click codes on the mouse,



As the snake coils into the empty house.



In an unreal life, nothing recognised,



A stranger lies, looking into a stranger’s eyes.



Steadily repeated stabs of deceptions,



From foundations, of fallacious conceptions.



Locked in a make believe play of doubt,



Interrogate the evidence, turn inside out.



Within delusory ink and pens that bite.



Making sulphuric phrases into tools of spite.



Elvis on the radio confirming your thought,



Suspicion in a tormented trap you are caught.



Eliminate subject and object, unravel the day



Anchor to a certainty and then drift away



For it has always been and will always be so,



A blind thought will return to the house of shadow.
Lorraine DeSousa
Written by
Lorraine DeSousa
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