Strands of Belief
We pluck fluffy balls of cotton from so many different plants, Having no idea, which would end up in towels, mops, and pants, But every tuft itself, shorn of identity, has no consequence to dread, Caring even less, that many
Call Me Butcher
When outstretched hands reach out for your support, And you routinely ignore them like another status report, If your arms cannot reach to those hanging by strands, Maybe you should consider chop chop chopping your hands. When tired legs try
Fealty
Every one of us has travelled, walked down many a different road, But very few among us remember how, and fewer, why we trode, For most of us, it was simply a linear journey from path to the next, Choosing
Enchantress
There was so much of myself I knew, I had, to be so proud, So much about my tremendous control, that needn’t be told aloud, I really believed, all I had to do, was firmly decide, and will it, And
Dichotomy
The first thought when you hear choice, is the existence of options, A chance at qualifying the rationale for a decision you make, But despite all that, some things were never meant for conventions, Because, in matters of the heart,