Unravaled to be left in shambles

The antagonistic foster siblings of escapism has never quite unveiled itself,

Claiming to be a part of the unconventional cosmos of appeal,

The futility of ridicule is a subtle legacy,

The unrequited vengeance of my identity...

The mojo of an Earthling is still mortal after all,

Borne with colloquial charm.

The surge of a fantasy,

Embroils and acquaints itself with strangers far from being strange...

The morbidity of a taboo,

Is known to evoke an unspoken desire,

Self mutilates a metaphysical possession,

Surges within but still lampooning its virtuousness...

The freedom of the mind,

Is now familiar with the trans-morphism of the world,

Still nurturing idiocracy,

With silence that provokes uncredited revolutionary thought...

Our words have now surpassed even the best of the connoisseurs,

Still acquainted with the naivety of former possession,

Possession that has now diverged,

But has still chosen a similar kind of groove...

The coquettish reveries,

Expects to acquaint with procrastination,

Unleashes the bonafide wrath,

With the arbitrary ambiguity...

 

The last laugh...

The martyrs have weaken their stance, 

Subconsciously intimidated by the days of only wounds ahead,

Only moments to go until the march to glory,

The provinces of gold had intoxicated  them to the point of the sleep of reclusion...

The breeds of higher order have now not a reason to opine,

They begin their day with the solace of futility,

Commence to a voice of bigotry,

Until a different kind of transition...

For letters written in blood,

Have been defeated by the words inscribed in bonds,

Seldom acquainted with the world of gossip,

Placidly waiting in the numerous post offices of decay...

The time had begun for the fancy air of romance,

I will gift you a kiss if you please,

Embodied with the spirit of youth and glamour,

Made to suit carnal whims and mundane woes...

I shall wait for the end of your crude fantasy,

Which shall be made to sleep upon my arrival,

Awakened when I am away,

Which shall continue to torment you as you twitch and turn in your grave,

But not for too long...

Let me feed you copper candy,

So very fierce and inedible,

Let me occupy your senses with the scent of my love,

Superficial enough to slip away...

No impact has been as great,

As great as my non- existent significant other,

Who took me back to the rustic air of childhood,

As I grew many steps away from naivety...

Very few roots of passion have traced back,

The rest have faded away with the night,

Trampled on with time,

Burdened by mortality,

Just to suit the flow to the last laugh...

The Village Fair ( Part 3)

Several years ago was once several years ahead,
They returned to the village fair, 
The glee fair as it was called,
Only this year it ceased to end,
Refused to end like a whimsical array of fireworks,
Fireworks coiled around the Globe for many generations to come...

The annual indulgence had now become one with their blood,
Defying hierarchy in every way,
The choir of the angels had incorporated itself with their good sense of rhythm, 
Some one from everyone was a part of every one's own kin.

The true glee festival it was, 
Illuminating the dark ages of every era,
The carousel bore the account of every one's life,
The sweet-toothed beggar for now had many a claim to fame today,
The lecherous lads insatiable appetite finally was to be satisfied.

Who could forget the voluptuous ladies,
The lanky lasses was not far behind either, 
The hunk all whims was in the midst of his polished act, 
The science of attraction prove to be a claustrophobic mechanism  to suit every one's needs.

Them noble men never failed to appear,
Everyone looked with envy at their sultry mistresses,
Suppressing their assets within the robes of vain,
Curves to die for, 
Modesty they wanted intrude...

The omnipresent dirty old men,
Never missed a moment to steal a glance,
They have variety to feast on today, 
Amidst the virtue goddesses and titty goddesses...

The buck- toothed mayor of the town,
Also struck with dwarfism,
Waits to inaugurate madness, 
Cuts the ribbon of euphoria,
With a few evolved words, 
Glancing at his wife struck with gigantism,
The mushiest couple in the fly.

Who could miss,
The vivacious lady oracle,
Staring in the vast open skies of the future within her crystal ball,
While she satisfies everyone visually with her elevated bosoms, 
Therefore the present gets all the love.

Then there were the old men and women, 
Only a few miles from their death beds,
Just to see the village fair for one last time,
For the reminisce of a lifetime, 
Left with the momentary despair, 
Then the glee festival raises their spirits to a point of a disappointed heir, 
Those scummy scavengers..


Them Noble men blended with the non-virtuous crowd, 
The erudite danced in circles with the illiterate crowd, 
The seductive women chatted with the modest mistresses, 
The glee festival drove everyone nuts, 
Never got stuck in a rut. 

The village fair,
The glee festival,
We'll probably take a bus there,
We'll get intoxicated by the voices of the angels...


Picture from the net- ( gardenista.com) .