coup de grâce

I was born on the day God died,
The vagrant boyhood of mine
Wandered through the streets
Looking at the dilapidated shrine
Where the idol was no more
Only anarchy reigned.

My adolescence whisked past me
Compelling the lost soul
To enter the lascivious world of
Agony, disdain and growl.
Looting the meagre wealth
Left in the arid world,
With sighs captivated inside
And tears that never fall
I saw my reflections
Running behind the curtain,
The demise was long due,
And the course was certain.


5 responses to “coup de grâce

    • If I represent the generation that has lived its life and passing by or the generation that is yet to arrive, that I do not know. All I may say is that growing up and living in a world where ideas and idealism has died, where the spectre of unified global city is massacring the nature every moment, the question you asked haunts me the same way as it does to you.

      • A reply as haunting as a poem – thank you – I am sleepless in a part of this world where a waning moon casts a long stream of light over the water of the lake outside my window – in this one tiny place nature fights on

      • But what would happen to us, those who live and suffocate in the ever-grey heart of metropolis where all the resistance seems so very futile. Do you feel we will be absolved by tomorrow?

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