The Silent Spy. Poem by Subrata Ray

Ths Silent Spy. by Ray Subrata

Lest should some one,
Air and try,
Crossing my erected,
Networks highs,
Of my lockers,
Of my brokers,
And my contrived sighs.

The professional glory,
The fabricated story,
In the realities of the guys,
Where, if there is any spy!

Know they of my Time-Success?
Every trick that I impress?
My money, honey, and moral flag?
The coating of white in all my blacks?

So what! So what!
To say a word, has any one gout?
I have posted thousand butts!

Have I ever rusted my spirit?
Nay! nay, as I remember,
I have sharpened my merit,
Employed pall on wise heads,
Me never absence from virgin beds!

Should I indulge my poor relations,
The commonplace brothers and sisters?
Perhaps a disgrace! The rank I hold!
Through my servants, my movements,
What Man now I am, -they are told!