the world stands still. the earth grumbled so near      to the moon                to the eclipse of              darkness it brings           but the perigee no one        can tell        that seemingly      the ellicited           aura                was that         of revenge against           provocation of exemplary human deeds        no no            wrong      not human deeds  but a devil's advocate's deeds        

else it was purely  greed         that had caught human in between a rock and a hard place                   it's no use now to savage what            white is left behind             for          it is payback time

to neither rich nor poor                  but to either        the heartless        or those who lack a heart ------- a hole burrowed amidst                                                       

curving the mantle of disgrace                         the only breathing space           is to reach out your hand no matter what the cost

just           to bring back what is lost                      not the lost lives                                 but the lost           hearts        that still thrives

it is when we get stranded                 that       the threads are      thickened      by hope                      no never thinned otherwise                you stand on doubt's brick

                and there lies            the conviction of prolific         drabbles                where bodies float and scraps       are buried soaked

ondoy! should i remind to you more than thrice to not summon me when the wind no longer hisses and            the infants of death cry

for i stand here alone                   no one knows              until    you showed up                    i don't want you to ravagingly test them in desire's content                                         

i just want you to teach them as subtle as the leaves rust not with its trunks

{ music } rain drops
{ mood } contemplative

Filed under the frantic disciple counts | hn. your pen's toilet