VANITY...

Lo behold! Let’s go and vend,
Threads that took me eons to rend.

I must, share myself with the world,
On and off it has been my friend.

The skin takes time before falling off,
Every incision, someone comes to mend.

Yet somehow, the scars stand apart,
An archive of each, curve and bend.

The journey to purgation still unfinished,
The destination a delusion a dead dead end.

Scribbling on sheet, surfeited tales,
And these vain verses “Mirage” shall rend.

The inevitable loss!

On stones, and caves
In clouds in waves,
On the walls, on trees,
In raindrops, in breeze,
On seals and clay plates,
In stars and fates,
On sheaves and barks,
On fabric, in art.
They wrote and wrote,
And stored and stored,
And saved and saved,
From dangers untold.

On paper in ink,
In photos, in print,
Histories, biographies,
Fantasy and mysteries,
Volumes and volumes,
Of ideas and feelings,
From floor till the ceiling,
The anxiety to preserve,
Against amnesia reserve,
The demented thoughts.
Those exist not.