Lofty Gaze
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Drooping jaws at life’s cross.
In silky webs of tangled floss,
spirits devoid of worthy moss,
seek their breath in apple pies.
Search for nods in misty eyes,
not secure pledge, but veiled lies.
On downy props their daggers hone.
Much to them in sigh and moan.
Better toils by way side blown.
Sun and sinew roll on hays.
Soiled in pleasures wonton ways.
Done to ordure so many days.
Carve vacant lives from jilted plains.
That dormant lie from want of grains,
to deafening crack of monsoon rains.
Lofty gazes farther tune.
Wary tread the strewn moon.
To flesh and want stay immune.
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