Empower me
With the keen edge
Of cathartic sagacity
And I will dance
In exalted  tribute
To daybreaks invincibility
Double time
While quoting  rhyme
To the downbeat slash
Of the scarecrows scepter
While compatable
Emulation
Exposed to rarefied
Imagination
As the keep of the keys
Pounds out
The scathing expose
That dredges up
Those
Benumbed and bewildered
Riders
Who have been
Constantly
Overexposed to the negatives
Developed
In those darkrooms
WHERE
Expedited promises
Secretly enacted
Enabling
Blankcheck *******
Of any and all
Faithful believers
Of our beloved Carrousel
That we have
Always  insisted
Is the keepsake
Bequeathed
To all the concerned
Caretakers--once empowered
With the keen edge
Of cathartic sagacity
Now just
Trying to keep dancing
To the fading  calliope music
As too many
Once - synchronised
Elements
Of our revolving
Carrousel  
Are going wrong
Breaking down

Tundral-ticks of splitting floes--
below, darkrooms where a polar
bear developes.

Why do we feel that if they have been lined up for decades, as if Time were a false witness, even innocence would contaminate a person to the core?! From the black-and-white films of negatives - back then - it would have been much easier to evoke an eternal moment in the captivity of darkrooms, which is perhaps characteristic only of each individual.

The roads directed towards the finish line have become one-way labyrinths, just like the crossroads of the desire for faith. Many may not know it yet, but mere good-willed intentions are not always certain to be chosen with free will.

Often they do not dare to notice the hunters lurking in the depths of everyday life, who exist and breathe just like anyone else; one could say that they deliberately, with superficial pleasure, eviscerate life to the core. - because now fewer and fewer people are excited by the consciousness of half-humanity; that they sold themselves and made a deal.

The good thing about romantic love in the past was that it was as if the One-Beloved had carried the feelings in her womb, so that she could then give them birth every day, while the pain was replaced by selfless, radiant happiness. In every case, it ends the same way; whoever sets out on a long, unknown journey is not sure that he will find what he was really looking for. One wonders where he could have ruined the selfish game theories, as well as the manipulable psychological tools, if he looked into superstitious eyes!