"And for whom did I whine?"
Self absorbed and stagnant;
who plead innocence,
who plead incoherence,
yet awake and lingered still;
Averting moments flew,
begrudging bonded through.
A madness inept
of things that cures,
for the last bit of bliss.
"To whom shall I whine?"
Prying eyes, pulling threads:
the endless collateral of depravity.
Will you see me and my faults?
A never-ending reject,
peerless and trapped,
with word that bound,
of thing should be
and things would be;
All it takes
is just a small step forward;
yet I levitate
and dream away.
