UNCHARTED

    

SHELLED

Something for me,

Something to hold.

A safe haven for us,

A place to call home.

Here, all our fears and desperate trepidations

Are woven in an intricate pattern borne in the

Minds of wise old fools in deep meditation.

Here they piously let hope flourish ,

burn a tad bit brighter, only to vanquish it.

Here our way of life is a perpetual La Mode

Perpetrated to the very frail fringes of eternity.

Here, unspeakable deeds are performed in full  spectacle of the populace

But who dares question it?

And so we remain coiled and stuffed in this

 Illusionary organic casing we have created for ourselves.

Our internal organs bathed by blood set aboil

By fearful emotions we dare not let escape.

And thus for all the wrong purposes become we, Shelled.

By Owusu F.  Michael