The midnight oil...

We walked amazed by haze,
Ready to win the battle we formerly lost,
Now as I unravel the real warrior,
The lie begins to show...

A pure mockery,
Harmony embraces acceptance,
Now lets cajole rigidity with intoxicating words,
I hereby unite with another gruesome story...

Is the flare hidden,
Or do we fail to glow?
But I assure you shall be illuminated,
After you clean the surface...

Now as the secrets are revealed,
We speak the unspoken ,
We burst the bubbles of our virtues,
Now the spirits have woken...

Now let your mind project,
The illusions of the burnt midnight oil,
The mirror shall always be a reflection of your horse-shoe smile,
Stirring of vacant laughter rings scornful bells...

For in a decade we thaw this frozen seduction,
You shall then hear the bustle of this sirens stilettos,
You shall feel the passion of her Aphrodian dreams,
So oblivious of that little slip...

For its just one right of passage,
That shields you from brutal crossroads,
So we can mock the shadows of loss,
Welcome the ghosts of a dead dream into the chambers of denial...

A numb veil,
Shall accompany me to the furnace of my identity,
Waiting to tantalise me to a different time,
There goes the otherwise tempestuous focus....

( Painting by Edward Munch)