The jester

When coping with failure, how miserable one feels. Useless. judges himself/herself. The mind plays games.

The little voice whispers the words

Shouted my many through times known and forgotten.

This voice of reality challenges I

the jester of injustice and insecurity.

I shall keep the gates of truth shut and

behind irons you shall rot.

I predict clouds of smoke shall cloak the fear

of darkness you have yet struck.

For in the seas of stormy darkness the reefs

are not forgiving enough Maya,

to let you drown. Your demise shall not have noble ends.

Unworthy of honour, I the jester mock your very existence

I shield you from the trembling sincere whose worlds

are stained by the blood of similar men like we.

A jar we fill with putrid substance which is our very existence.

And we wish to impose our filth on others .

From whom we want service

and worship like shysters of preach.

This is what life has become, Right and wrong are two masks

of society. Behind them hides the cruel truth.

Accept ourselves as corrupt we don't

we talk about truth in hushed voices.

Just like the little voice in your diminutive minds

who embraces the prehistoric principles of sages.

The voice is thee and I is you, the question is who is me? 

Author's Note

Please be critical.