Innocuous crime
Spare some time
To decode the faults of mind
Set in parchment and ink
Fallen to dust in the wind
Behind lost eyes in a wink

Caught in tradition’s mire
To seek the burns of novelty’s fires
As being turns to dust
Glorious shine is effaced in the rust
Of changes gone by
Still no right answer nigh

Dogmas eclipse
Chains rattle and drift
All directions under the sun
A compass superior to none

Are perceptions unique or uniform
To culture borne?
Or are answers forever amiss
A world built in chaotic bliss