In The Pursuit Of Truth

When in the agony of greed

I lay bare with broken bones

I saw crisis within the creed

As though pain etched in stones

Somewhere in the dust

I need to find myself, it's must

For my oceans above and beneath the crust

Are mire with never-ending cyclones

I weep, for I see, beauty and the hate within

It is so it is

For the grim, on this chin,

Is never going to wipe off

So let the dance begin

The ballet of the macabre shall commence

And at the 12th roll, it is going to end

For everything sleeps at midnight

But it doesn't end there

For we sit not on a chair

But on the ugly throne of thorns

It is not everyday that we transform

So grow out of the cocoon, shall we?

Let there be a fruit in this dry valley

Where there was none, I was my own company

And with these words

I crafted my perfect symphony

To sooth the pain and tears

Perfected after agonizing years

And it was in this roll

That I found myself

Even now I hound myself

Isn't this in reality a beginning?

Towards a life of shimmer and gold

Pampering all that I can hold

And still stuck in a wide dilemma

It's surely a life worthy of cinema

And in this enigma, we shall sing

The words that the birds bring

In the late hours of the night