Chaos

Embroiled in ragged comfort,

many riches bore her eyes.

Vicariously studying, voraciously voicing – for

tiny little trinkets that fall on her side.

Pick the man; Pick the woman – she

made the deal with god on her lips.

Like butterflies they swarmed; 

Like butterflies they flew – into the mystic chaos.

Smiling, laughing, lazing and gazing;

Never a care, albeit enjoying the summer snare.

Colorful walking dresses, all they were,

and one sole man with a cold black stare.

 

Black.

Dapper.

A forgotten swagger.

Solemn.

Trance.

Conscientious pride.

Said: “Path of the fulfilling, place of the prospering;

Lives so wretched with despair and chaos”.

Tho’ mind with zest and heart with a care;

Always a sneer, and the summer lay bare.

The call of duty and his renaissance stare;

Black, dapper, a forgotten swagger.

Solemn, trance, conscientious pride.

Thus fell a trinket on her uncaring side.

– Tipu Vaithee Swaran

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