I am weakened by a simmering mirage;
by its intoxication ,i imbibe
when in a dreamy state of languor
I strive to fill the divide.
the divide, though, creamed with a concealed renaissance
like a hole in a stagnant heart,
or the frayed vision of a passive stance,
i strive to find a gullible start.
everything seems layered with a synoptic endeavour,
filled with hopeless props,
like languishing water of a cursed shower,
i strive to boast of my incredible drops.
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