Satanic Consciousness

Wake up, you fool!
Oh, think not I’m a log;
I am awake now, only now.
See the tag: Brazen

But am I as branded?
Over, I’m late now.
A stain, stigma attached
But the cunningness escaped.

A clear mind sullied,
A right motivation perverted,
A sense of love spoilt,
The precision passed.

A wagging wolf approached,
An amenable prey subdued—
What’s left, an inflated heart,
Gliding over the maze passed.

Oh, you fool!
Spare not your heart that blindly,
The countenance can be moulded;
A satanic mind has been at works within.
Now, I see the inner curves, so pathetic, so ordinary.

This piece shouldn't be mistaken as what I hold deep down for Y, who I take as the beacon, hope and warmth of my poor bleached heart. It's for the other one who came to me like a satan in disguise, but, unfortunately, at the same time to reveal the evil magic of her fawning cunningness. But I am, by the grace of Triple Gems, resilient and haven't fallen in the abyss of self-torment. Thanks!

Ubiquitous Paleness

However dense the flurries I trudge through—
Muddled headed no place for fixation—
I grip on to it—the firmness I should prove—,
Facing pale, paler to desolate greyness everywhere.

Why even thou, the full moon last night,
Spotted that pale, morosely tarnished, upon me.
Standing and staring at from the narrow front yard,
I saw you cared for me, my friend!

And the stark naked neem tree beside,
The wilted torso and branches, sparse limp leaves,
Joined me too having nothing to hide its emotions;
An artistic view it created with the gleaming moon after all.

Yes, the depth of it I should reach,
The proof being spontaneously true I should find,
But not to show off: To simulate it is to fool myself.
This firmness, even if invalid, should stand trial along the time.