sometimes I want to scream so loud it rips open the sky,

and rends the illusion that is me,

but the energy i would use would not belie

the masses I use to be deaf and not see

soft breezes would be wasted in the effort

and cool fantasy lost to reality harsh

whose gain of freedom

would the foul creation impart.

an act of creation in curse expressed

would only be points taken

from what I have left.

for only

further on

futile onset

finally off.

�Alex R Singh 2008