The Victim

On this pier walking past the memories
that conjure up deluged with the remnants of love
far away secluded
for me
the world looks so plebeian
dancing to three powers that made it a mere marionette
no disdain
no love
no care
no fear
apathy it is
the power reminds me how mortal we are
how assiduously we follow the rythm
I leave this place dry with no blood and a story to tell
without a kindred one to abdicate my throne to.
His sable eyes look through- perplexed with the
equable climate,floundering helplessly he finally
reaches the sacred place where
the inscriptions of blood speak !!
from the stench of failure came a catharsis
genesis of a contempt for lives caught in the vale of love
a blinding light which rose above me showing the face behind its facade.
"sucess" the inscription read !!!
doors opened to the road flanked by graves on both sides
every epitaph read the same as I walked on
the path intrepid
"The Victim "