The Poison, The Pages

Letting the stagnant poison

Of ages

Drip drop by drop down,

The mazes

Of my veins and blood

That blazes

Dreams of fire and death

That fazes

My sullen eyes in the dark.

In stages

Coins, corn, coriander,

And sages

Have corroded freedom’s

Lavish cages.

The hormones of time

Are gauges

Of the murky blunt bullet

As it engages

Into the shadowy gun

That grazes

The temple of the thin man

And razes

His spirit and the tender pity

And praises

The big man with the shot,

The big man with the plot,

The big man with a lot,

The big man in spite of the blot.

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About zeeshan

We are the twinkle in the eyes of oblivion.

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