A Sand Castle

Smoky room,
Breeding cancer,
With a full stomach,
I am fighting for an answer.

To mask ones’ failings
With profound thought,
I follow in the footsteps,
Of Kurukshetras’ plot.

For, urges I do have,
Ones I cannot defend.
Yet urges I do have,
So, I do not defend.

Does that make one a hypocrite?
To cite the rules of virtue,
in debate
And in the bedroom,
capitulate.

Am I too a pendulum?
That rises by its own pace,
Are you too a pendulum?
That falls by its own weight?

Whats the point really,
If its all going to end?
Yet, Whats the point of a dream,
If its to have no end?

Still,
On a midnight’s dream,
We awoke to freedom,
Freedom, to loot, rape and murder..
Even more, it was not,
necessarily in that order.

Is it freedom,
If it isn’t absolute?
Is it freedom,
If there are no rules?