Sunday, 26 August 2012

The junkie and the banker

Waiting till the intoxication subsides,
drunk slurs aside, each tear was a symbol of a salty sigh.
Each needle was a bitter sweet cry,
help, was the call, wallowing at the sight of her fall,
But she was too high to care

Pain needed to be blurred.
She wanted to make life a smoke screen.
Her teeth gnawed at the prospect of past,
Present shattered by mental scars.
she gasped for divine intervention

Staring upwards, neck craned

53rd floor, looking down, "I'm above you"
In more ways than one he pondered.
Smirking at the hollow reflection,
Smiles were always a smoke-screen,

But something irked his suave demeanour,
Injected in his veins was a competitive edge,
A mission to never be below another,
vie for the top even if you must crush your brother,

Today he hoped for the final promotion,

His blood began to boil at the sight of rejection.

It all became too much, the toil, the saturated spoils, the infatuations satiated and  the royal self- servancy.  
He took that deliciously degenerate aphrodisiac for the last time and Died

Crack, cocaine or crystal meth wasn't the cause, it was Pride

Self-Pity, Self Importance
Pills and Position
See beyond the suit,
See beyond the ragged clothes.

"The intoxication of headlessness and arrogance takes longer to regain consciousness from than the intoxication of wines." Imam Ali

By Mohamed-Zain Dada