From an old pattern louche and humongous
seeded with beliefs powered in wrongous
rises this pique which threatens my willpower
and saps my strength in this dissonant hour
isolated and unemployed my fuel
still harvested by corrupt beings’ rule
–I uninstall the games, ignore the stream
pervasive and invasive schemes that teem
with the intent to take me down, enslave
city-bound, depraved old symptoms behave
in ways to convince me: give up the fight
and so I do. Good wins. Triumph the light.
Featured image: While walking, I espied this feather crab-walking down the sidewalk. Light as a feather.