It was an invitation of temptation
To become what they were
Little bit of brigands
Whole lot of tormentors
With no dreams to chase
Lost in the haze of heinous crimes
Their homes were havens of blood bathed times
It was a journey of discovery
To explore what they possessed
A treasure of weapons
A fixed deposit of ill desires
Everyone chose the path to conspire
Damaging everything that came their way
To the dance of death they loved to sway
It was an enigma of horrendous clues
To opine on their views
Shoot on sight
Killing anyone is alright
Fearless in their pursuit of power
They neither repented nor longed to care
Bloodshot eyes kept evading emotional tears
It was a gory glory of being lawless
To no deeds of theirs did they ever confess
Living for a day
Dying another day
They doused homes of rich and poor people
Hid in stolen blankets they carried guns and sickles
Shedding blood and mashing human flesh like pickles
It was tough to resist the temptation
To let the mind succumb to criminalization
Every day seemed like night
Every moment of being alive shuddered in fright
Nothing could have been so gravely scary
In pursuit of freedom the mind grew wary
Finally the inner self escaped in a scurry
-vociferous
No comments:
Post a Comment