The Gadfly Of Desire

there used to
be a
frenzied
passion,

this rut
and panic of the
nerves

the madness of
the desirous mind
wanting to
eat even if it
full

it craves for
water
and air
when water is
sea-full
when air
is a storm

you go awry
you run without direction
the ass
hole in you rules

you tumble
you fall
regret is all around you
mourning in a funeral
and you are
the star of
the dead show

years shut you up
and you hold a cane
your knees now
tremble

come to think of it
you sit on one of the stair planks
of the old house

you still like it coming back to you
the falling is sweeter
than this
monotonous sitting down
waiting for no one
waiting for nothing

the hours drag you
like you are the defeated gladiator
that soon they will
through
upon a cliff
soon to be eaten by
those hungry
vultures

where's that frenzy
that kills you?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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