Per-verse

The beauty of being...

Each moment, with Life

and seeing

the myriad pastures,

the raging wild raptures

of this mad mad dance-

of this calming estate

of chaos and idyll.

Knowing little,

gathering much

with no end as such;

Enter and Exit

this nonchalant nonsense-

this Pit

of limitless pretense.

Blame me, would you

for this lavish lust

for this tricky trust

I attach so

To this rotten rust

of love and disgust?

I me detach.