The Oracle

He had borne fruit with the sleepless nights

fidgeting about the idle ream of papers

he had drawn the shape of a seer would like to take

an oracle with ships sailing in offing to which he claims

all his powers- the ships clear on the night coming to the shore

something is soothing to say that she has got a lover

who has a crush on nicotine and more of chutzpah

to woo women with music into raptures that seize

the end of humanity- the seer with a pothole of vows

he wanna see the rushing power of the skies above

breaking column after column into powdery snow

and his sunken face coming out of hood- the apocalypse now!

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