I wanted to be free
from mine, from me.
Genius insights matched,
I became non-attached.

I was happy, free and wild,
it was beautiful for a while,
till i fell in love, madly,
with non-attachment, sadly.

It rose in my veins like
an addiction that could strike
fear into my bravest moods
whom no benevolence could soothe.

It rent my heart, hopeless
and bleeding, without a trace
of love, for it was irrelevant
to bear this tender brunt.

The tenderness and frustration
was painful. All said and done,
I could still feel and desire
though my red eyes grew drier.

It is humourous, even farcical
that non-attachment, though an article
of moral succour, adheres to morals
that unfortunately lead to quarrels.