Watching through a T Lens,
A once in a lifetime visual
That sensated all my senses.
A precise and super steady shot,
Of a tiny person
With a bedraggled and fractured stroud
Walking down a bemired road
Somehow to me, looking like a caliph
With a hued cape and a scepter.
No smile, but still I captured one,
So much sweat, but I saw none.
Innocence in abundance,
And struggle from venom.
Suddenly the zephyr was tangible,
And the king of the meglopolis
One and sole constant legworker,
Not in aid of others
But in futherance of his mother
Who was lying next to necrosis
In want of water
And love from her cherub.
How long will she endure?
Will it be the water,
Or his emotion that will save her?
Or even his prayer on the way,
Maybe nothing at all.
Maybe her gerent will return;
Return to see her in irreversible coma.
He might be the king to me
But he will be nothing more than
A vagabond, who is orphaned
And who will again tomorrow walk
Down the same road
And I will capture him in my frame
T Lens and super steady;
Super steady like his bleeding heart.