Sitting amongst these angelic souls,
I measure the degree of their humanity.
How soulful they have wretched,
The question of self humanity
Bringing only to shore
Their made excuses.
Their face masked with curiousity,
Fret my spirit
For a much sought answer.
Their arched brow holds more
That can be told with their lips
For I have also journeyed through their lanes of summary.
If I am given a podium to stand upon
I would speak with my fingers ,
Drawing lines in the air.
I will tell about my future goals,
And the failure I have accomplished in the past.
Praising my inevitable mistakes,
Honouring the darkness in me.
I would answer these hungered looking eyes
That their question
Was once upon
A given decision.
Let them rave
I will sit and watch
Till no one wins.