You are not
on my page...

Do not give credence
to mundanity. An iconic...

A repressed scream.
Someone breaks the head...

Fixing the dignity
like a fabulous sarcophagus...

Sitting on the hill,
nestled against the moon...

It was getting dark.
The silence starts speaking...

A fast in hurry. you
pretend that you...

It was like homecoming of
timber rattle snake...

Nonchalantly
you rip the smile off...

It was middle noon
on the deserted street...

In transit of soul,
when you were under siege...

Talking of morality abuse
and implanting of false truth...