Virus

Wonder how elastic is patience,

Or when it borders on  madness.

Is it callousness of oneself

That makes one careless of reason?

Stepping on the path of treason-

The treasure seemed a public property almost.

Naturally, the urge is to expose the core-

No matter the ugly stench of it.

Belief,faith and trust,

Seems raw and frayed.

Questioning the fundamental foundation,

As someone's idea of fun- 

Seems the only logical way through.

The virus contaminates the mind-

As it retraces through it's regrets.

Flying far away from it's secure nest-

The humdrum seems a loud noise,

In itself a jeer to the downtrodden.

The eyes known once,

Seem strange and bleak to gaze into.

Ease lies shaken,

As the discrepancies of motives,

Comes into play.

The hands that clasped,

Now seem like weapons meant to murder dreams.

The body that sheathed,

Now seems like a cardboarded fantasy-

Or maybe just an effigy of folly.
With some more days wasted in daze,

And precious youth stagnant-

The urge to break-free and feel alive,

Is through spirits - to enliven the espirit.

Drags that deaden senses,

Is a heady escapism-

And give peace that soothe as a thin balm.

Lost in one's own world,

Superficial seems supreme,

Fake be smiles that don't reach to the eyes

It's all a game,

That must end,

Before it ends others.

Giving it all,

There's not much left.