A Genre of Its Kind

So much to complicate,
So little to resolve.
In the myths of the social jargon,
Feel the sanity dissolve.
Talks of a hundred mouths
Slip away, un-deciphered,
By a mind that is a simpleton,
A soul stands so startled.
When lips are silent, the soul delivers,
Sermons from the cryptic mind.
The ever-tried quill kisses the parchment,
My writing; a genre of its kind.

© The Godiva Expression – Anum Ali