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Often it feels alike being imprisoned inside
the wondrously moulded walls of concrete
forever echoing with brio of chaotic cheers
as melancholy veiled behind joyous veneers
adorn the streets vividly agleam with vivacity
while In The Shadows flourish the ages old toxicity
lurking as an abyss of distractive addictions
pulsating with chortles of splintered dreams
subjugated and carefully crushed to oblivion
by authorities weaving the resplendent lies
of strangely majestic prison named city life.
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» 77 Words «
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Of Scrolls & Scribbles
Poetry"An Isolophile's Collection of Poetical Scrolls & Quotical Scribbles contain the depths of reality as reflected upon, by an isolophile who dwells within the vibrancy of philosophical solitude and artistry of kaleidoscopic mindscape and beyond." » ©...
