To be or not to be,
Shall I be lost in this hypocrisy?
This is the realist’s question,
Devour my instincts, my crafty discretion…
Fully clad with this heresy on my back,
Natural shrewdness- my vanquished knack.
A sturdy lie of solemn convictions,
Creates a maniacal presence of helical frictions…
To die, to live, to strive again,
Equivalent = immoral men.
My deeds are well left unspoken,
Two faced acts as my pocket token…
Waves of ways, not yet evaluated,
Darker than this is overstated.
My world has no boundaries, no sign of care,
Exploits of doom- none the less….
Fair…
W.T vd Walt
(111 Words)
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