We dwell in a rented world

Nothing to take away

When realm of life ends

Living in an Orb of chaos

Where contraceptives and

Ultrasonic waves decide 

The birth of the generation


God–men topple genuine Gods

Oracles manage our hope

Blind and deaf in aloof jiffy,

Camouflage chameleons in

Selfish situation, we endorse

Subtle chauvinism, zealous egos,

Shun our prowess of insight


Cradle to Necropolis, we subsist

Credited Monarchs of Bamboozle

Quest for opulence evict ethics

Ensue standoffish, swindle souls,

And our ultimate aim is nothing,

What we gross, what we miss,

The bonds of the life quash one day.




11 thoughts on “RENTED BLISS

  1. The way you use the english language is like listening to the sound of a zipper being unzipped. And the image of the teeth of the zipper unfolding, is the form you are sculpting on canvas, which utters powerful wit and truth and secrets. It is apparent there is something inside you that has been wearing a sweater hoodie. And it hangs compact in the closet with other worn out hand me downs.


  2. God-men. I think they are a huge part of our predicament. We spend too much time with them. I spent a good part of my life doing things I shouldn’t, validating myself with the actions of these “god-men”.

    Time for some more discretion. Time to actually think from a priority standpoint.


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