Less Composure

The vacuous audacity of trampling the words 

Across the empty lobby where eyes gesture at ordinary communications

Some exchanges on the way, but the language is yet to be ascertained

Cranked up environment promoting ruthless brevity of sentiments

Smiles resemble smirks, masked generosity is another ploy

Trodden words stick to the sole and leave a trail of times to arrive

Times composed of less composure speak abundantly of the shift

Black Sun through the latticed windows create a sinister pattern

Walking under the heavy arches with a slouching posture

That audacity of reaching for the curtains of a netherworld


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