Mock The Days. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

Mock the days of earnest toil;
Cheap was the gain in false final.
Smoke over smoke over misty eyes
And silence filling the half broken cries.

Mock the days of blasphemous toil;
Deadening sounds wet the grimy days
In midst of cruel laughter and praise.
Shaken beliefs totter while chats matter.

Mock the days of innocent toil;
Inner self in itself the solution found.
Bound for glory or for treachery bound
The stratagems of self-mockery foil.

Mock the days of superfluous toil,
Null the start and the result null.
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