Rampant Demeanor

The End of the tunnel,

What this holds is my own glimpse of loop,

A lamp full of treacherous flow,

Reminding us all our repetitive deeds, 

It’s not the meal that can feed,

But words full of exquisite flavors, 

Which trigger our need.

 

A light at the end of the Road, 

Isn’t Enough to add anymore flavor, 

Than the pieces of leaves that penetrate the ibogaine, 

A leaf full of knowledge worth in only knowing, 

At the beast of our mind,

Lies the covenant that destroys the leaf of the rotten; 

Under such circumstances, 

Even the breath of dormancy-

Or the repentance is useless to the ruthless mortal might of a living being full of pride & lust. 

 

It yet another fairy tale that’s unaware of the leaf that grows,

But isn’t ever aware of growth. 

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This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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