Insecurity- the microcosm of my worthless self,
Beckoning me to the land of my doppelgangers,
All midget of sky high ambitions;
Ready to grasp the ripple of hope.

The hope of a billion epicentric images,
Insights of the past, present and future;
Calling for an elegy,
Due to the dire need of the demolition of humanity.

The touch of grey,
The feeling of sway,
The reversal of mortal roles,
The resultant cause of the fight for immortality lingers on!

The exotic world of insecurity,
A blatant display of the passage of time,
The time-machine, unaware of its ravages,
Caused by the force of tides.

Straight from the sorcerer’s den,
Rises the sisyphean instinct of insecurity.
The fear of the same,
Lingers on as the blinking Satan on my forehead