Groping on a Slippery Pathway

Click Clunk Clunk Clunk

Sticky footsteps sounded

Down the pathway; 

greasy murky soil sticking

on every footstep taken

Plonk plod plonk plod

Thus every step plodded

Into the cloggy thoroughfare;

Every venture a misadventure

Of misery in this murky political voyage

The yester brighter horizon

Now embossed in a misty maze

Of gloom and despair;

Thus, we grope into miry clay

Woven in deception, and goaded on

With sterile ideology

Drifting flotsams in an ebbing tide

Floating chaffs blowing around in a stilly gale

Milling herds in a desolate arid ranch

Thus, 150 million souls are herded around

Towards a precarious precipice

While the world gazes on stupefied