Secrets

As I walk in wide-eyed wonder, I explore the soot-filled nooks
Unravelling the secrets of life through untold stories
And every fragment of what was brought together
Makes me wonder what brought me to life
The blossoming sexuality, the natural boisterousness
And unfulfilled desires of every human being I meet
On their quest for happiness

Amidst moments of hurt, hate, and heal
While preserving their traditions
Under the onslaught of modernism
Triggers my opinions on personalities and characters
And like shockwaves of panic in a dystopian drama,
I discover the meaning of human nature
Its novelistic details, the filtered perspectives
The strictures of patriarchy and the struggles of matriarchy
It's like a comedy laced with cruelty between rain-soaked epiphanies
The comforting words, ingenuity, the barbed jokes
And the truest opinions from the boldest of souls
Souls that fight to stay alive, that march to stand their ground
Souls that gives witty commentaries
On love and loyalty, money and social classes
On races and religions, dilemmas and conundrums
And on my occasional slip into the realm of melodrama
I realise that life, with its mishaps, is just a practical magic
A drunk night of fries and margaritas
A middle finger protest and feminist treatise
An epic journey alongside a broody convict
And at times, an opportunity to sink
Into the psyche of a single-minded survivor
A singular vision and an individual suicide
But how true are they - these secrets of life?
And how perceptive are we with one secret after another?

-PRK-

The Rove Beetle

It snapped like a twig, adust and aged
Erupted into debris, spaced and misplaced
Scattered in the night sky, soon interlaced
A journey with no end, only to be retraced
By a chain of reactions, the earth had vouchsafed
For such a being with such curio, the past had enslaved
Soon as the sun awakened, reflections then displaced
And the twig remain malformed yet unscathed

-PRK-

Tyke Folie

And so she sat on that chair
Confused and very inquisitive in her head
In that sullen space she felt stone-cold
Blindfolded; she couldn't see
The chair she sat on was colourful
The space she thought sullen
Was as bright with sunlight blazing through
Then she died knowing only darkness
And veneration for she wasn't allowed some light
Suchlike the idea of proper behaviorism
We are habituate to

-PRK-

The Grand Rummage

I believe there's an angel of inspiration

I believe that we all have a guardian

I believe that we're sent down here for some action

With time we'll realise that we're part of a composition

And it was ochestrated how the horoscopes are compatible

It was designed to make us feel quite comfortable

With what's up and what's down with the system now

It's only a matter of time for us to find out how

How we make things work

How we make the table turn

How we make the gears jerk

How we take the next turn

How we move from questions to questions

For the answers, we seek

How we shift from generations

To steal some things and let them leak

And if given a day to be someone else

I'd choose you over myself - yes, you

The first question I'd answer is what's on your mind

I'd say I wish I live in a gold mine

And the next would be what would you do today

I'd say I just want to laze all day
Lay down naked or covered in lace - all grey

But that isn't how a hustler hustle

Never been fed with a silver spoon or kept warm with a cuddle

Now, who am I to ask why a person is as such?

When even myself is purely imperfect

But one can only dream to be the dutchess

And build a fort for the misfits and rejects

As I believe that we're fairly classified

Not referring to the caste, races or colours

But the way we run the world from wrong to right

And I'm talking about showing our true colours

Am I vulnerable or am I too strong for you?

You tell me as I wouldn't know

Am I too different than I used to be to you?

This is just an advanced version you oughta know 

-PRK-