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Blood fell from his knifed-hand
Like the impatient midnight dew;
Who, because of jealousy and envy-
Of the sun and the moon,
Chooses to disrupt their leisure.

His face was heavy
Like the thick dyed-wool cloud,
Issuing warnings to the earth.

His body appeared insipid
Like a spectred shadow;
Downstreamed with a rapid capsize
Of innumerous exodus of emotions
And a discomforting negation of replies.

The hair jerked for an uncompromising
Neglect of its stillness,
Dancing slowly to the rhythm of the wind.

The universe fell on his feet;
And Conferred aches on it, as a gift-
Wrapped with a sour-ribbon;
Dug from the hell’s pit-
With a discounted coupon.

Oh ankle!
Why did you expose your foppery
With a tremble?

The wind proclaimed its harshness
By rigorously attacking the window blind
Which was clutched unto the wall
With the aid of a metal pipe-
And there was a galore of echoes;
As one cleaved through the other.

The buzzing sounds
Of the angry wind,
Left a dashing notion, like a mintless mint.

Tears dropped, knife dropped;
Heart vied with pulse,
Guilt mirrored, Visage kvetched;
Mouth was slightly ajar;
But lamentations refused to surface.

Confusion took the ambience;
For the demon in the mirror-
Killed his long-time lover.

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