Drips of Oil

We see our each reality
Through lenses of desire
That frame eventuality
And lead us far-from-higher

It’s all an aberration, though:
Just drips of oil, pooling,
We try to light, although they be
Just fantasy and fooling

So every day, the cycle goes,
And there’s no breaking free:
The wasted lost desire world
Of ugly men

Like me

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Drips of Oil”

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