[Not the beginning]
Truth without conviction,
Passion lacking force,
Desire still wanting…
Fire luke warm.
Now lies are facts misconstrued…
And love is… oh so tamed!
Tears are found heroic,
And heroism, a shame.
A century since Eliot,
Men are still hollow…
Vodka slouching in vain veins,
Head pieces stuffed with smoke.
Leaning together banging,
In sync with Pink Floyd,
This is the way the world goes,
This is the way it goes…
[Not the end!]
Hello people... after a long time... does anyone still haunt this place? About the poem, well... you may understand it better if you read The Hollow Men by TS Eliot. Cheerios! :)
