See me wounded and doomed
As I’m willfully harpooned
At the core of my moral deeds
Which fail the worldly weeds

The utterance of conscience is
Subsided in vague misty haze
Prayers and chanting soar high
Sound empty, as a horse’s neigh

The supplications to evade sin
Now, means to hide sin and win
Favour finds them who schmooze
But they are really grit in the shoes

The shadows dance hood winked
As words and deeds aren’t linked
Vanity bags don’t make a fine pack
Contents get better hold in a sack

Nocturnal birds sing a sweet tune
Enticed by the crescent moon
Spoilt by the occasional shower
Deserts do long for a green cover

Drenched in the drizzle of sorrow
I am damn frozen to the marrow
How I crave for cocoon warmth
Sweet feel and smell of hyacinth

Golden face that melts the cloud
Wields on me profoundly a clout
I wish l had some rest in the citadel
Where I found a paramount model