Sunday, June 16, 2013


Upheld by the strings of lust
It dangles amid a paraphernalia
Of narrative, telling human stories
Of human emotions yet being a simulcra.

It , attached by strings, suspended
Between becoming and nothingness
Could perhaps imitate mortal life
Yet, by virtue of its embalming, transcends it.

Though it is forced to tell a story
The way of telling is unequivocally its own
And the range of meanings the spectator brings in
Bespeak the life it lives, beyond itself.

Thus it reposes, with a painted expression
Over the emotions generated into it
But its impersonality proclaims
The dissolution of body, the entropy of soul.

No comments:

Post a Comment