Chaos

In the bustling ado of my life, chaos reigns

The ambling morn picks up pace, it trots by,

Often meshing into a rushed afternoon.

That too brings no respite, no succor; it spills

Forth into the twilight of the dusky evening

And then night descends, veiling my efforts.

Try as I do, I’m unable to lengthen the day

I’m unable to hold onto some more time

To get the things done that need to be done.

Alas! In this constant flux, the hubbub that

I call my life; my life itself is not mine to live.

It is passing to the beat of frenzy and bedlam.