Distant coddled
alabaster runs wild
savoring the vortex of a
muscle mired maelstrom
Caligula's throne sits in the eye of the hurricane
we write letters to ourselves—self absolving sin
rhetorical ramparts squelch responsibility
free wind tickles the tips of branches, the trees stay still.

Broken bastion bereaved
bunkers are built for sandstorms
whether we weather the weather
or fall victim to the tsunami
there's a climate change in our self addressed letters—
they become less about love, more about death
after we see the treasure chest in the executioner's cache.

Devastation hollows the oppressed
a free agent becomes a Super Bowl champ
by defeating those who traded him
a letter sent home reads—I joined the winning team,
equality is inferior to superiority
those in glass houses throw stones
once they're invading stone houses.

Race to the top                sink to the bottom
of a valley where black sheep roam and scapegoats graze
waiting to become predatory lions
gnawing on the structured bones of lost wildebeests.
Wild animals don't write themselves letters
their only signature is their presence
an aura of selfish instinct.

The thing will remain the same
Truth will remain as it is,
the same,
it won’t change.

The thing will remain the same
Facts will remain as facts
Facts will remain the same
Facts won’t change.

Need of hour remains the issue
Need of hour needs to be addressed
Over a period of time need of hour will gain all the groud and significant importance
Definitely it’s priorities that matter the most
Priorities come first
Rest will follow later on after priorities are followed,
since priorities are the one that always come first.

I don't want to kick the hornets nest
But I am felling quit depressed
And begaining to get awful distressed
There is things I need to express
Because my chest is really compressed
I know it's from all the stress
It will be hard for you to digest
But I have to get this off my chest
This problem must be addressed
I think it is for the best
That all of it is confessed
I know after I tell you, me you'll detest
But maybe that's for the best

Oooh never mind
I'll just keep these hornets in their hive
And stay in the shadows and hide