I am the shade of grey
The unpleased pleaser
The shadow of the sun
The nightwalker
Whatever takes place
amidst the rubble
A curtain, that is me
A hollowed curtain
Which does not make
premonition
Rather bleakly borders
what lies in between
A rampage of minds that
is
A disgraceful
harmonious chaos that is neither black nor white
But a shameful tyranny
of colours
An array of
disheartened souls that will crush
Like a stampede of
elephants they rule
Blessed with tusks that
make Xerxes cower
They are the wolves I
tell you
No longer blinded by
humanity
Only guided by anger
Both are ashamed of the
other
But what shame does it
bring; if it was not unto
themselves?
What shame if not the
shame of ignorance?
The shame therein lies
upon the mob
The believers
What do they believe? I
can never comprehend
For they are
non-existent
As come other prophets,
carrying wine and words
‘Tis the irony of life
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