What a marvel it is to want,
To be able to seek for a purpose.
Yet it has such a despicably old vile side,
Which can often leave us pondering,
Why, is it that we desire so much?
David Banks was no different,
All he ever wanted was some respect,
Which led him into voicing out for the oppressed,
But the sooner power was upon him,
His thoughts had steered him towards a horrid dream.
His younger days, were a tale which he wished he had forgotten,
Tormented by the people around,
His smile soon began to lose its charm,
He soon began to defy the ideals for which he once stood by.
Greed and power had stirred up an unpleasant storm,
He continued to squander the wealth which he had once yearned for.
It was too late;
And before he knew it,
Mother Nature had already done her part.
YOU ARE READING
Desire
PoetryThis poem is a reflection of how desire is a trait which is often deceptive and can stray us away from our true self. Therefore, it is essential to keep a track of where we're heading.
