Idled Idealist
He is an idled idealist
A muscled, imbecile
A savant to no avail
In search of a new world
While blurring are lines
Between good and bad
Between right and wrong
Dithered of discerning wisdom
He is stranded in the middle
Of labyrinthine lanes all around
Towards which side to stride?
Left? Right? East? West?
Fuddled is the ideal vanguard
No friend to walk together
Nor even a foe to offer
A decent fighting pleasure
In this social warren
He remain lost and forlorn
Like a frozen mountain
Of vain profusion
poem by Sathya Narayana
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