Rat Trap

In emptiness
I grope for dreams,
footsteps fall unknowing
into a lotus field.
A tree of images rises—
yet mud and silt strip me bare,
shred me into filth.
Wherever I look—
distance, only distance.
A tunnel appears,
thick with stench.
A cunning rat—
its one-pointed life
hums a tune of debauchery.
It searches for holes,
slick with fraud,
treachery sharpened like instinct.
Night shadows coil
over lotus fields,
while the rat leaps,
chasing the comfort
of an easier life.
But every tunnel leads farther away,
lotus drifting out of reach.
In the hope of selfish survival
one day that greedy heart
will be caught—
inside the cage,
the machinery of the rat-trap
snapping shut.