Thursday, May 5, 2011

My Time Has Come To Go

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a single
swift blow
tears
held back
the poet
in me
must go
this cock
wont see
the rising sun
his last crow
he loved her
although
she viciously
on his face
shut her door
she thought
equivocally
she had scored
when the blade
touched
his feathered
crown
the neck
of a poet
with a thud
fell nimbly
on the floor
his blood
his pain
into
the gutter
of nothingness
overflowed
she was brutal
she was ungrateful
she was uncaring
she washed her hands
paid the butcher
some more
told him to see
he was dead
throw him
in the sea
that he wont
ever rise from
the sea floor
or crazy demonic
followers of his
will build a shrine
a martyr misplaced
blood sweat
tears and gore
she got busy
cooking haleem
other domestic
chores a nokrani
she calls herself
whoaaaaaaaaaa

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