_ Quicksands

It's all about tickles on skin and the rush of blood; the sensuous tunes played by nerves and profuse flushing glands! Bodies, bodies and bodies! The unseen beacon keeps emitting it's brilliance... by him denied of its existence and thus to him unseen forever. Yet, failed bodies don't hesitate to curse the delinquency of the so denied. Naysayers just need mouths...big mouths... The redolent lone lotus bud growing in murky interiors remains forever waiting to blossom, for the sprays of wisdom-Sun rays. They keep crawling and falling on the slimy edges of quicksands. It's not easy walking out and reach the green meadows beyond the shadows of doubt and sophistry! I can pity him, you can sympathize and he can show mercy! But he's beyond our stretched out arms, his hands deep inside, flapping the mud and his lips sipping the stinky mire. Oh now behold he's shouting aloud and laughing insane 'This's sweet, this's nectar, this's ambrosia! '