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Whose Praise Do We Give?

barnes in the toilsome world,
transporting the unknown
ascentral traits,
with a phrase vacillating,
flabbagastion within their minds,


a regard encrypted,
biologically innate their genes,
with a faltering comprehension
whether it emanates from their partenal
either maternal edge,


incessantly and constantly,
in the quiteness of their cogitation,
a question hollows within their minds; 'who am I? '
with a vain and vague respond,
but an euology of laconic words arises
with failure of reciting their birth's descent praise,


incompetent of their uniformity,
feeling dwindled and vexed,
as there's no vestige
to clear away their piquant vexation,
that will carry away the prohibition,
that hinders them to,
articulate the womb that molded them,
without hesitation,
of expression
lest a deviation
from a degree of accuracy,


tears embarks to trickle,
as there's an exhibition
of despairity[hopelessness] lying upon
their hanging faces
seeing no ends to tie their lacess,
foreseeing naught but a misted day at dawn
so gloom escorted with mystery
as they have to be
like trees with ni groves,


in the cleavage of their period of birth
and death,
the reminiscent of the excursion that their sire
and mother,

[...] Read more

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