Try stirring with your golden spoon, the air in the empty vessel you see on the table next to you,
Give it a nice taste on your ever-longing tongue, and let it give you goosebumps with its sweetness.
I hope what life fed you was tasty, or you have acknowledged that this is the taste you may have to comply with,
I hope you didn’t think that life was to feed you and you don’t have to toil for it, for it is what the reality seems to be.
The clinking sound with the touch of spoon on the emptiness all around in the empty space,
This, an empty and meaningless text, intending to create meanings out of confusing life.
Just let it be and take good rest, as it seems to be the option one and only,
If else there be some ray of hope, let it wait on the next corner.
This empty text needs to be out there, a feeling of accomplish at least it will bring,
A mark on the wide virtual space, a badge of shame and carelessness put across the horizon as an honor,
For those who be, kind and virtuous and knows the rules of it all may all be the bread winners,
And take home next to their pillows not the heaps of impending failures and emptiness of the world all around.
As I escape from the league and the decided accolades of the world who brings some sense of their lives,
God bless the peacemakers, and the endless heroes on the ever-highlighted lists of the specific worlds.
Now, that’s an interesting me, looking over this all and smiling, thinking I broke the rules and made my own,
For this be an another something, done by someone, sometime much ago, over and over again.