Strain

As all thoughts are pressurized with tensions,
emerging from waves oceanic from our cerebral,
butterfly dreams look as lost in a mirage oasis,
to wet in gutters of dirtiest melancholic strains.

When walls are crumbling to greet illusions born
straight in middle of severe floating ignorance,
confusions cloud the life's remote lonely horizons,
suffered by thorn slingshots in measured exertions.

It's in human beings, times when events appear in life
to respond our souls at the place of utter realization,
as a show precisely revealing the forced turmoils etched
into moments of focusing details of something as nothing.

Know one thing and live another is a misinterpretation,
a mistake done due to conflict appearance of the thoughts,
survives in an ongoing effort, so hard of physical burnout,
as in the austere performance of heart's stressing distress.