Trapped in the cage
borne of hope
Looking into the future
emptied of guilt
Nothing could be easier
than seeing
The present being burnt
into the ashes of past
at the altar of future
that wouldn't yield itself
to be beheld
as truth at last realised
In the eye of the fire
that is each desire
cast aside from the way
of being normal,
swept under the carpet
of pragmatism,
shrugged off the shoulders
of concern/ convenience
left amid the pile
of unfolded laundry
of unattended responsibility
Waiting to be born yet again
Another spring giving in
to a summer yet
scorching the dreams
singed by desires
again and again
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