It’s Strange

It’s not easy distilling the recurring struggles

Stirrings of unnatural kind unsettle minds

Fake smiles held up with deceitful manners

A simulated environment of urgency activated

Through persistent machinations 

Fixed eyes unable to probe the sanctity of visions

Inexplicable concentration of hateful sentiments

Adulterate the mirthful essence of life

Mocking with the wilful replication of errors

No soul will be content within devious citadels 

Discontent spills over with boiling rage

Wounds do not have time to heal

Strange meeting with the bloodied reflections

Foreheads smeared with indelible fate

Killing in vain the replica of a cosmic soul

Fallen spirit is torn asunder by dark forces

Such wisdom cannot salvage lost pride

It’s a strange predicament that lingers