Road Taken (Loser)

Road taken
(Loser)

In life’s battlefields, he’s so vulnerable
Head bows, heart trembles: “Ô! the miserable!”
Between diverged roads stands the doubtful
Takes the most rutted road: “Ô! how thoughtful!”
No caring eyes, no warm hands of wisdom
To uphold, forestall his fall in the bottom
Meagre dust shrouds his fragile aching soul
The mob swallows the Newcomer  the whole
Once down, his Dreams flatten. Yet his own mind-
The albatros around his neck-  up binds
In the wild cave, terror prevails, thence crowns
Sense strings, under the puppet hand, guns down
Dark enchantment in a perfect pitch rise
In the crowd I exist, thrive, I apprise
In our crowd I is we and we is I
The Outsider petrifies all eyes blank…
Oops! He’s lost in the Country of the Blinds
Remind it! Rutted roads hardly give rise
But for where mirages seduce and guise
No heavier shade than being weak yet awake
No dawn in eyes fully opened, yet hands shake.

S.C.B.BIBA