Drowsy ambience, an aura of dismal and dismay
spawns a lugubrious gaze, or gape of thole
"The deed is done", the despondent man says
glimpsing the imaginary view of anatomy and dole

And mother earth, sings her dreary lullaby
of inhuman deeds, soiled by roguish seeds
like a maimed infant, a lacerated baby
she yowled, her emerald-channelled feet squeezed


Above the scenic view of Nirvana
the teenaged soul tussles his way
At full tilt, wrestled his faith for fate
in extremity missed the empyrean curve of the stratosphere

Bound in the oubliette of anguish
bind to the call of the waggish