Today’s Dilemma

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I wrote this somewhat depressing poem in a state of mind usually reserved for kings waiting in horror of an imminent stampede. Except that I am no king and there was no horror. Maybe a GoT episode was freakishly straying in my mind. It’s a random thought, not to be taken seriously or perceptively.
If I was born in the worlds of today
With little to say, much to sway
Roaming aimlessly from cliffs to clay
Just like a prisoner gone astray
Carrying a dug-up heap of boulders
On my retreating, shivering shoulders
I would be screaming in silence
Dreading the distant violence
My heart would be a pounding flesh
Panicking at the moment’s stress
Living with fear and trepidation
Anxiety would be my only tradition
I would be afraid of the unknown
Even scared of the sloppy clown
Building far-fetched scenarios
Wandering from worries to woes
My days would be darkened with grey
My nights would be alight with clay
My numbness would not oblige me
A cold panicking mind, would disguise me
I would have no path and no mission
A life sans delight and completion
I would watch the worlds with instant fear
Its misadventures, uncouth and unclear
Screaming to unknown, though I wouldn’t hear
Neither going nowhere, nor staying near
Mine would be a life of fear and trepidation
Not meant this way, but moulded to precision
I would live like that, entirely in seclusion
I will have a comfort, but no conclusion

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