Robed red in crimson garments of a soiled image
Confused at heart with loss of social identity
Trapped in my mind in the lockers of tales that blur visage
Ripped apart by malfunctioning order I know as reality
Such is the denizens of my humbled, dishevelle anchorage
Now i am lost in this panoply of arrayed differences
Skins of different shades typifying races, faces, and places
Humanity moving in fast paces, grovelling in various phases
I am lost to this flurried sight, which chops my thoughts in straight aces
Reality to me now moving circlets of thundering hypnosis
I wonder what pattern to self would emerge from this horizon
Keeping faith that in hope I am embarked on some solemn passing zone
Lurked in the midst of these arrant and blatant noisy societal dozen
I keep faith even more , that in time it would lead wandering to blessing!
and the prophet would arise, with a passionate voice, daring everyone to listen!