"Who will gaurd the gaurds themselves?" -Juvenal
In this insecurity we turn our pacing circles,
that is born in the dim lights of our minds
when we lavish our thoughts thoughtlessly.
And in turning circles we receive such reassuarance
as that of the romanticness of candlelight-
unilluminating, hiding the insides
of the deep crannies within us,
and the systems that run
like heartless machines that decide our decisions,
when in our circles we think
that we decide them ourselves.
Who could gaurd us but we ourselves?
We are the gaurds who in nightly patrols
forget what we gaurd as our feet wander
and in the deepness of thoughts, flounder.
How deep shall I go, how deep? Tell me.
When at this distance I foresee getting lost
in the deep, deep forest unexplored in my mind.
How many thoughts shall I leave unanalysed?
Would I fly on ignorant wings
every time I survey that vast expanse?
Shouldn't I look beneath the canopy?
Shouldn't I dispell the insecurity haunting me?
On other days, under similar skies,
We walk so insecurely, so as not to lament
that cataclysms in such important matters
will come but in slow descent, like lazy falcons.
The stars shall tip over the banister
from where they look down on us,
and they shall fall- the insecurity
has many kingdoms, but it rules from our minds.
And I feel irresolute- but fear not,
I shall not fear, even if in this I stray
What do I follow? Where is the answer?
Under other coloured skies,
I wait tentatively,
For I shall begin when all have finished.
