Inert

To unconventionally express thoughts of the common mind,
Seeking answers scattered in the realms of the living world,
With every breath seeks the air of resolution and truth,
We grasp the tree of ambiguity for the fruits of life we long to find.

Actions are never meant to be in motion of obscurity,
Rather each action transcends crystal clear motives of the human soul,
Although it is caged among steel bars of insecurity and doubt,
the cyst of intentions portrays itself in the most natural of causes.

Like a mime performs in reality with its actions as an art of objective invisibility,
Waving his hands in the air as his spectators are expectant of its representation,

Like a man in front of the eyes of the woman he likes,
His actions inert as she walks in front of him,
But deep in the abyss of his mind,
True words of intent are screaming to be heard,
Yet, he is left like a mime,
a silent performer with only his eyes hoping to capture hers,
And the invisible arms and limbs of his feelings are left paralyzed in dejection.