The Renunciation

Habitation frighten me,
I would rather renounce the habit
                    And the house in which
I once felt quite at home,

I would rather be a hunter
In the far off woods
Or be a short-lived target
                    Of an archer there

Only humans put me off these days
Not quite evolved the way
                    They should have been,
Every moment they are at one another's throats,
Men and women live without purpose
Copulating without love –
An incongruous collage,
A medley of broken hearts,
Flames of agony devour the crevices of the brains

In every home, spikes of hatred bloom
                    Into mushrooms of death
Mindless automation moves a horde, zombies revel,
Robots shake hands in a pointless ritual of propriety
The only emotion is that of a misguided crusade
                    With nothing to win
Rarely is there a face of a human being -
                    They are all but masks;
I would rather renounce all these
And let them recede into the dark craters of the past
And find a quiet spot of my own, if there is any,
                    Still left unspoilt