The blind rat

In the midst of odd talks

By the people of late walks,

Lies a series of thoughts;

Seldom heard, and seldom felt

Though experienced and often dealt;

In the kingdom of reality,

Lies a broken knight of fatality;

In the cover of arrogance,

Lies a heart wrapped in innocence;

In the rat’s race called competition,

With or without a reason,

Lies an unknown battle,

Lost already with no vision;

In a silent night on Saturday,

why am I writing this, anyway?






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