(Part 2)

After the momentarily bliss
When his restlessness leads him to abandon its bosoms
The soul will awaken from its haze
Lost in a deep emotional sea
Frantically it will fight to stay afloat
It will wish to reach the shore
But on it he has anchored a heavy yoke
What else, he drilled out its heart
And fed it to the birds of the air
For mere survival and sanity
The poor soul will cling onto him
He though will not cease
To blatantly trash its piety
Yet, he is aware, its hooked on him
And that feeds into his tyrannous
He is Mr. Playboy

© Christine Kananu (Her Blog)