Poetry, to screw your mind.

Okay! Here is a first in Jobless-Screw. Poetry. Yes, the jobless screw-head author of this blog is a poet too. So here goes:

Blood drunk over a thought surpassed;
Over the objectivity of the immaterial
has Armageddon been neigh!
When reality is personal,
and the material-subjective;
How shall man survive the chaos?

In such surreal existence,
How often does love thrive?
Love-an idea!
And thus lives an idea, in an idea!
How true is love?
Alas! We shall never know,
as nothing is real,
and I do not whine,
for in that love, do I find my reality.

A world we live in-
A world we appear to live in-
is sensed by all.
But perceived different is that world.
In the common platform of the world,
the platform is not common!
And we know, so does all eternity,
we have survived!

When the world exists in the mind
and never in material,
when the truth itself is fluid,
when time has been proved to be relative,
when the measure of a measure itself changes,
how safe is it to measure?

Do we exist?
Is reality real?
Oh! Screw it!
I shall just seemingly exist
and while sleeping or awake,
I live the dream.