li̲ke what one better
do before going on a hike, in the ma[ɛ]nner
of that c#cks#cking spineless oppressor
known for for bunker-hiding
having bo[ɑ]nds with crI̲me rings
government-budget-trifling
ruling-term-limit-nullifying; sto[ɑ]p, that's
no[ɑ]t it; go[ɑ]tten sidetracked
like a trolley; I̲'m gon' wind back
like what one better
do before going hiking, mind weather
is sort of lame: mostly storm & rain
[anger & mirthlessness]
as before, for this world's insane
plagued by corruption-sparked crime
[according to ocindex.net, worldwide organized crime level]
[rose from 4.87 in 2021 to 5.03 in 2023]
just like the emergence place
of the Dark Knight
[Gotham City]
and the realness of yours remains
something between a nocturnal phase
of a solar day (murk) & an urbanscape
when it's fa[ɔ]ll in reign (gray)
like aqua drO̲[ɑ]ps desc—
—ending fro[ʌ]m skies; sometimes
["falling rain"]
your attic gets overta'en
by go[ɑ]ddamn darkness
like in horror games
or films; dark 'nough you
would no[ɑ]t mind to
watch this world get destroyed in flames
which sounds like the Joker case
[the Alfred's quote about the Joker from "Dark Knight"]
["some men just want to watch the world burn"]
and, in fact, is a scene worth to slay
for, given, like a person blamed
no longer for a fau[ɔ]lt he made
["forgiven"]
how badly this world's depraved
by the wicked; all the anti-fascist discourse
conveyed by me, like an ******* act, in the course
["*******"]
of a bit more than twain
years; like a deserted place
it's about to be void; I'd say
sim. to Wild West bad boys, I fave
black hats (the hell?); but, of **** course, when they
wind up in stirs, or slain
or in some other misfortune state (ha-ha)
like the country with that Kim **** in reign
[North Korea]
a grim, morbid frame
of mind; read that sick verse I laid
as a part of "POAA" &, before it's late
["punishment of an autocrat" ]
consider reaching a go[ɑ]ddamn asylum
as for the destruction piece, 'course, it ain't
the whole world, but org. crI̲me bands & tyrants
along with loyal aides
of theirs that deserve the fate
mentioned; for, you see, a[ɔ]ll that they
regard highly's riches, which is low
as hell & pretty typical
[it's not money itself that's the problem]
[the problem is the love of money, which (especially when obsessive)]
[as it's known, is a root of nigh-on all kinds of evil]
this world deserves a better breed of criminal
the breed of individual
who'd be ge[ɪ]tting rid of those egotistic rogues
[by "a better breed of criminal", I mean vigilantes]
[the "Dark Knight" scene]
[where the Joker sets a money pile aflame with the following words]
["all you care about is money; this town deserves a better class of criminal"]
————————————————————————————————
this world's sick as heedless folks
in pre-middle ages; the wicked means proposed
is a part of a needed serial
treatment of this fierce disease provoked
by a lack/loss of a syst. of principles (corruption)
and known as injustice (global injustice)
when there is nil or low
commitment from good people, evil grows
["kneel"]
["the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing"]

Indigenous citizen
struggling to stay civilized
amidst
monolithic visages,
stone-faced and stoic witnesses;
overhead,
gargoyles grin—
hideous grimaces
guarding ever vigilant.

Inhospitable city grid
dimly lit,
rain's residual liquid
slicks
gritty asphalt
glistened,
blacktop igneous
pavement glittering–
rigid obsidian.

Hidden within this vision
visits
solitude, unsolicited–
loneliness exhibited,
never fitting in;
island imprisonment
as bridges begin
quivering
above stygian rivers grim,
abysmal reflections glint,
swimming in viridian.

Water's
brim risen
to vertiginous limits
I see
flitting images
of cataclysmic collision with
water's frigidness
obliterating to oblivion.

A dismal wish
reminded by
a grisly glimpse
of figments vivid since
residual shiver imprints
from winter's winds
whipping shins
and thinning skin;
I cringe, wither, wince,
my eyelids squint–
but I still live, so
no longer motionless
my frostbitten digits grip,
limbs never given in
to blizzard's pins
or crystalline prisms–
I walk,
despite icy splinters
and misery digging in
my ambition wins.

There once was a captive giraffe,          
Who escaped from the city zoo,  
But with this newly found freedom,
He wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Bustle overwhelmed his senses,
‘Till he finally found some lawn,
But the trees were scarce and fragile,
With dried leaves barely hanging on.

Flooded with options and self-doubt,
He let out some ironic laughs,
And returned back to the same zoo,
Back with all the other giraffes.

I’m coasting through my life,
Many chances unseen,
Perfection or failure–
I know nothing between.

I’m afraid to attempt,
Any new kind of feat,
For risk of the unknown,
Leaves my goals incomplete.

Before an honest chance,
I avoid and delay,
Then I self-sabotage,
Every step of the way.

And I’ll only engage,
If I’m sure I’ll succeed,
Never taking a chance,
So, my win’s guaranteed.

This way I’m protected,
But, I don’t dare to dream–
For I’m broadly inept,
With a low self esteem.

Of course, I’m missing out,
On any real progress,
For this fear of failure,
Never leads to success.

If I could transcribe behind your eyes,
I’d see the times they’ve sunk and cried,
The shadows of pain you’ve held inside,
And all the needs you’ve been denied.

You don't speak much on heartache,
Or insecurities you can’t shake,
Breaches of trust, being treated unjust,
Are there fears left concealed, undiscussed?

If I could dive inside your lovely mind,
Swim through your veins, us intertwined,
I’d find exactly how your heart perceives,
Study the language your love receives.

Maybe it's the 'I love you's throughout the day,
Or these poems, though limited in what I can say,
Even a warm meal after work on a cold day,
Or perhaps it's those weekends we spent away.

Mapping responses to our conversations
And how you react to my love demonstrations
I’m looking for clues, all sorts of indications,
Fine tuning the way I love with my observations.

I’ll narrow in, long as you continue to share
Your reception of love–please make me aware,
For, finding your love language is all that I care,
I’ll express my love, I solemnly swear!

It seems I don't know quite how to respond,
To the pain present, within and beyond,
So, my subconscious defaults to the lead,
With habitual patterns, I proceed…
Reliant on instincts and emotions,
These primal pathways take me through motions,
Now I’m acting rash, values misaligned,
Hurting loved ones in this stressed frame of mind,
All because I’m unable to pacify,
My cortex, drenched in stimuli.