She did it so cunningly
With eyes full of malice.
Every person she met
On road or at office,
It was a client brought
For her purse to flourish.
Never did she see
With a partial heart
Be it gentle or filthy
Out she spoke, all heart.
Never did she care
How hurt was her client,
With her words filthy
Or her threats that count.
She was there to see
If people abide by the Law,
The state had made her strong
To upkeep earning, no flaw.
The corners and the corridors,All the routes and the bordersAll the skies of my dreamsAll the oceans of my griefsAll the narrow lusts for lifeAnd desires broad and blue,All the passions OptimizedIn and Around you.Now I have stoppedCrying over the spilt milkCraving for the virgin touchesBurning for the urges lostNor for the dreams shatteredAs there…
My lonely island heart nailsthe harbinger who shone, as moon stallsthe far western sky, when night falls.
Setting a fire is easy.
Their honesty remains at peak.
The awakening ofa bud of desire in slumberbeneath the cave of mysteryat that hour before the dawn.Words are bornat those moments of rush hoursof memories lamenting andfilling nostalgia in and around.
A flower for every bee.
