Weaved with a lot of skill and compassion
Oblivious stood erected in disdain
Persian turquoise, Indian indigo…
You name it, and I had flowers of different valleys
Bathed in egotism, adorning-robe of pride
Relishing my pristine appearance, while
Scorning others, self gloating was my sin
Sure of my fate, to be embellished at
reception decor Of heavenly virgin bride,
I Spoke meticulously the tongue of vanity,
My artisan a blind simpleton
Crafted me with great virtuosity
A connoisseur of colors, arranged
Silk flowers with tears filled with pity
But I basking in the glory of self adulation
Elated, high browned looked down on him.
On other customary bunches, turn after turn
Dates after dates, final day arrived wrapped in laced
White Upholstery, escorted in a black Lemo
to a town of a black widows, shrieking wailing
unwelcomed my arrival, roughly handled and bruised
was placed on a coffin of one senile old man, whose
only act of courage was a piece of land where he
was to buried.
