These creepy clusters of a vicious laughter,
Merciless impulsion of my regular being,
This despaired emotion, intolerant gesture,
of lifeless existence, mourning regime....
The resurrected soul with utter confusion,
Unguarded by destiny, discarded by nature,
Defeated by memory of irrelevance,
To a lighter and subtle sunshine.
All vices unearthed, the virtues buried,
The graves of characters, fallen apart,
Imposing decree, dismissal of rest,
Infliction, addiction, surviving this test.
Brutal murders of souls and sight,
Raping one’s intellectual best,
Extension of the hands of rebel,
To freedom, relief from worldly creation
It’s a lie, a false disposition,
I live a dream, this impulsive plan,
This untrue happiness, questioned status,
Is my definition of a ‘revolution’………..
Scenes, stories ripped off humour,
Tenderness deprived of compassion and feel,
Revelation, revolution what it may be,
End of the world……..of the Great Gatsby…!!