Narrative poem…
I want to be famous,
I want to be rich,
I want to be an athlete,
I want to go to space,
A palace of desires, he builds,
A cave of plans,
A mirage of achievements,
And an ocean of expectations.
A tiny thought loomed,
One day I will die doomed.
“So what?”, he asked,
“People would celebrate me”, he said.
But the world will die too,
And the universe too.
Speechless, he stood,
Amidst the clutter in hood.
“So what?”, he asked passion,
And fawned a form so creative.
Dissolved his paranoia in vision,
And freed him, a captive.
His palaces, his mirage,
his caves and his oceans,
Into one beauty, they merged,
Dispassion! She was called.
Originally published at medium.com