Foolish Imagination Cankers
A subtle mind can swim beyond the clouds
Where foolish imagination can crawl;
As the fingers played with the tuning ember
Luck was a play of words.
I swim beyond every air in the space
Holding the bountiful harvest lay;
Swinging my strength in each blow
Until I finally reach at hand a lace.
I just wondered how chances play
When a symphony is sung among lines;
And the wind will court a flimsy stag
Run out of direction where bird slay!
So foolish am I, yes, I was
Seeking something out of nothing;
Opening every door in sheltered agony
Closing one of the lucky chances pass.
Ah, foolish imagination yes, it is...
What others can’t see, I do hold in bay
Carefully crafting a single blow towards aim
As I kneel in pain and curling up my knees.
Is man a subtle being in immutation?
Or is it like a clasped hand, a clay formed
By the mark of its own choices bloom
So far of its chartered journey in perdition?
I ask my own, and found my own fooled view
No seeking is needed nor finding every find;
So profusely I have clad my own iniquities
As my subtle being reminiscing a painful blow!
Foolish whims always canker purity
Catching the heart in disarray;
Adjulating one in every inch I seek
It turned out to be worthless impropriety.