Poetry: From Delusions to Life Stories

Oblivious

For what they seek comes lonely

Lonely as drops of plea trickles

For what it may seem to be

It does not come ordinarilly.

 

Delusions of what, real as it be

Tortured more from lust

Squeezed more from greed

They sucumb the soul, and so they did

 

Polluted minds of an overgrown call

It leads me to be in my unending fall

How it consumes?

My unending question

 

Little girl, little girl

Come will be the dread 

As you pull that tempting thread

To open what you seek

But not as you'll see

 

A beauty untold from the farthest

Does it not look tempting?

The logical little girl

falls down from its brightness