Roamed Struggles: 1 of 6

Screams and yells crawled deep into
A tympanic membrane strategically located in I
With which, I listened to every,
Vibrating and echoing sound of a life,
I was destined to
I heard it all, I could not block it out
That night, was no different
Especially in a crowded place,
Where I was stranded, on weakening feet
Strange wide open sockets,
Were locked unto I
Flawlessly slaying a defined body,
I owned; unto a shiny titanium pole,
Placed strategically on a raised platform
In a midst of an underground enclosure
For every intruder to observe,
With judging thoughts
As they raised hands of gratitude and praise
The enclosure’s roof, was on fire;
I felt it in my groove
Vibes occupied an atmosphere
Everything was out of order, I loved it
Chaos I always welcomed,
Hope was embedded behind it
In that place, winding as a style of dance,
Was not optional
Rhythmic grinding, was an added accomplishment
Aimed at drawing attention, to those in wonderland
Sipping and enjoying, freshly made cocktails
Filled with spirits, I poisoned earlier,
A beauty of coming in early
Little did they also know,
Through their screams,
And in their yelled gratitude of praises,
I carefully observed them too
One by one, each at a time
Scripting it all neatly,
In a photographic memory I had
As I kept them occupied, by continuously,
Moving my body up and down, with style
They continued to scream
I obtained a better angle of view,
Without obstacles
Dedicated I was:
On a search for a night’s target