Poem:

His soul has lost its bearings;

He moves on as if propelled,

Not by his own mental compass,

But driven by the treachery

Of misery and wretchedness.

He cries out silently, painfully,

In his fading light of existence,

Bowed to the ridiculing pleasure

Of dereliction and surrender

To rolling sands of lovelessness,

Past valleys of dignity and pride,

Across society’s withering desert

Of indifference, bleeding within himself,

As if without a soul –

A casualty of society’s sins.

He walks but where is he headed?

He sleeps not the sleep of a man

Tired, but ready to recharge his battery

In the core of his mind; he is cold,

As if winter had stepped into his life,

Resigned to an unpredictable future,

Moving on until the sidewalks crumble

Beneath his dragging, blistered feet!