dung-beetle

i lack no inspiration

but that comes not with fuel
to adequately excite my will
to spark a fire that starts my soul

to push my destiny in that direction

that i desire to move
actually to fly high, like that eagle
with no spark plugs of aircrafts
or, that of a smaller motor cycle

hence like a dung-beetle i crawl

always backward
far, far from a highway with fear of speed
pushing that piece of dung
into my little cozy tunnel

constantly cherishing

the droppings and depending
on my single skill to smell