Profusion Poem by RAJ VIKRAM

In the midst of plenty,
in the lap of prosperity
it may seem profuse.
An unending saga of
ineluctable infinitude.

Profuse it is when
it all is within grasp.
Relentless it all is in
days of iridescent
exactitude of plentitude.

But when the going
goes astray,
when steps falter,
it all will look
irrevocable and irreversible.

Brace for the bad,
keep back up for
patches that are lean,
listless and endemic.
Truth is trying and tiresome.

Profusion is just
but a hallucination
in myriad forms that
life is all about.
Reality is just scarcity.