Status quo (#260)

Jealousy — a vicious might,
yet aimlessly benign.
A sheet, of sorts, to masquerade
the unknown — touched in parts.

Relentlessly, though glossily,
evading contra thought.
And if remarked upon it buckles
for those who see it through
a lens already worked to capture
its sheen of irresistible serenity.

One a lone one wanting out,
a place of cobbled past transcriptions.
‘But where to then?’ the aching soul exclaims,
dreading present future’s glance.
‘Untangle me; do not let madness fetch its reign!’
it echoes — ownerlessly — to itself.