In the wordly tempest of my callowness

In the worldly tempest of my callowness
I writhe with anguish of the purgatory,
within my weary heavenly body, I seek
felicity, nowhere to be found. Not in the eyes
of visionless progenitors, or I behold it in the men.

I shall call spade, a spade; here in an astute sphere
And there is a riot; of worlds, and of sensibility.
Rage, remorse and pride, fills up the ribs of men;
and with sensuality seeking out of the wedlock.
For a robust conscience, and a hue of remorsefulness.

A poesy with reference to the character Major Alex from Jacob Hills by Ismita Tandon Dhanker. Know more about the book here: Jacob Hills on Amazon

Of gallantry and philandering...

He sat at the round table centered beneath the chandelier. His radiant visage gleamed with warmth as the soft light fell over him. He wore a striped deep green suit that contrasted well with his profound brown eyes. His ebony hair, sleek and shining, hinted at an onlooker's guess of hairspray. He was a metrosexual man who preferred a polished look and ignored his reeking soul. He took a half-long breath and looked around for relief from his wife, who was settled next to him, and he realized his current circumstances. His gallant gaze ran through the place; he saw paired people dressed to display their social status, but it stopped on every lady in the room for ten seconds. His gallant gaze soon turned into a penetrating stare with a tinge of lust. His mind raced back to when he was a single man, living the time of his life breathing freedom. He had lost count of the girls he has slept with. He attained reality with remorse when his gaze met hers.

He stood up and walked with chivalry, cradling a glass half-filled with only whiskey. Every eye in the room tilted towards his movement. His face exuded a perpetual aura of heroic charisma among his colleagues and officers. His mannerisms, stoic and austere, were his trademarks. There was an unyielding devotion to his country in his eyes, sometimes overshadowed by the vulnerability he harboured for women. He was once the golden boy of his college, which made it effortless for him to flirt with numerous girls. He engaged in endless flings, road gigs, and intimate encounters, yet he never relinquished his masculine ego in a relationship. His domineering nature persisted even when ensnared in a forced marriage.

His attention was diverted as he observed a young man engaged in a tête-à-tête with one of those tenacious-type girls, her hand entwined with his.

"History repeats itself," he mused to himself.

This character is portrayed with reference to the character Captain Rana from Jacob Hills by Ismita Tandon Dhanker. Know more about the book here: Jacob Hills on Amazon

" Do not take the trouble of writing much.
 Merely send me my good night
 to put under my pillow."  John Keats.