Sold
There is a giant mountain Behind another mountain, Lit by houses Like stars laden to its silhouette. And here I am, in a desert. Where giant are the buildings Laden with all fancy and bright, Making me blind. There is a gushing river, Schools of fish, The Victoria bridge I looked from. Beside which lies an ancient cave. And here I am, on a parapet, Watching a dead stream. Beside which lies a new road. Golden but grave. There is plenty of air, Pure and cold. Fragrance of the fresh, An elixir to breath. And here I am, amidst the puffs Of smoke, flying dust. For the future’s lure, My breath is sold. There is a forest. A forest of chirps, Of snarls, roars. Belonging to the fittest. Ensembled present of hopes. And here I am, again in a forest Of concrete, horns and honks. Belonging to the weaks Of intelligent stature. Entangled in the illusion of the past, Now, fixing futures. There is a sky so blue. Where my dreams would fly With a circus