Who’s focused your attention?

Question their intention.

Distractions spot lights-up complexity
Yet true torches are so few
Are those beacons burning bridges?
Do you perceive the floodlit view?

Cultural paths are worth exploring
But are they trails of stagnant breath?
Dead ends dressed as Nirvana?
One Direction to creative death?
Listen to who’s talking
Who you follow, what you hear
Look beside you, where are they walking?
Are they sculpting what you fear?

Does their chorus resonate with you
Or is it gnawing at your skull?
Are you projecting them beyond you
Out of reach, so far in front?
Or are they prowling in your shadows cast
From floodlit views by which they hunt?

When you pull back to see the bigger picture
Both love and scavengers are exposed

Perversions of reality?

Anything — no-one knows.