The Ideology

My thoughts have been running wild on the streets of imagination,
that make me quiver in my dreams,
emerging from stacked up sheets levitating on hollow beams,
on whose either sides lies years of hallucination.

Throwing my limbs around in the air,
while blind thoughts scandalize the soft amber painted bed,
hidden away without secrecy in my silly head
planted with memories that taught me, life isn’t a trade fare.

Madness has struck me and I won’t deny
it buoyed my soul, so I greeted it with open hands,
that sail these days in luscious lands
smitten with tender grass but not turf soaked in a dye.

Rising from the depths of pity and pain
my heart resides with the warriors of the woods,
beating like the cannons scripting war roads
and flushing away fresh agony in the drain.

I’m not the sheep that belongs to a herd
but the one that dreams to carry a one track mind,
not held down by chains and roaming like the blind
amidst misty paths carved by the sane shepherd.

In the end my flesh shall merge with earth
exposing what my heart was made of,
dust would kiss my bones floating on a trough
yet the critics would let my ideology take rebirth.



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