PROMISED LIGHT

Amid the cinematic
Delays of our life,
Lingers a hush
Of panic that we beget.
Our wisdom and strife 
Float aligned,
In secret sewers
Of sweet regret. 

With plastic pillows
For headrests,
We are reposing
Beside doubtful choices.
Dreaming of impossible dynasties,
While being governed
By decayed voices.

The promised light
At the tunnel’s end
Fades delicately
Into a blurry,
With every furtherance
And ascend;
Our obfuscations
Graduating into a hurry.

And binding all lessons alike
The bird of conscience shall flee,
Leaving broken wings as tokens
In golden cages of society. 

-K.G
(From the complicated archives of September, 2015)