the essence of life wanes
as the clock ticks -
a silent diabolic tick.
A signal to an impending doom
Where are the crevices,
nooks and crannies
to hide a weary soul
from the vagaries of living
The toils.
The frustrations.
The debauchery.
and bars set set too high
let me sit on the sina taabu
and ruminate, one more time,
for the thousandth time,
of this bleak existence
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