Would I want the sun floating in
through the ventilators of my home?
There are warmth and heat; like
a street with two-pedestrian walks
Sometimes the choice is left to conjecture
and a little courage. I can say, I am a God with
many reflections, but I don’t have a forked tongue
You must know that the faces of another’s deception
regulate my candour and mystify my will?
Do you think I was masochist, skin picker and self-defeatist?
I had to undergo so much pain because of
a far too cruel Machiavellian plot. I may be
God but I am not the tyrant. This drama is
a Karma that unfolded out of an evil rapine.
I just sometimes think I’m loathe to choose
between the narrow choices imposed on me.
I am not going to have Paradise with partaking
in an evil, if it so long constrained me by causing me
to abandon one fortress for another. This is a fraud on love!
I know that my Masada should have no walls within itself!
So would I call it a day, when it is night
And let the moon fill my rooms with
the smells of the aerosols of an unwelcome benefactor?
Just because I do not want my sky to be a deep sea!
I can choose to take the suicidal potion and be bereft of
any territory, love or loyalty. Rather than being
burnt at the stake of an unholy compromise!
montes-musings.blog 