Pinnacle

I stand by a wicked smile.

Holding grudges over desert lines.

Gods being menaced by moths and flies.

Veils fail to save when the evil dies.

The golden snowy showers from above.

Sins can wait – This moment is euphonious.

The bitter wrath of eerie nights in love.

Death and Ghosts scoring in torment.

You are next, the grave echoed.

Aids are at halt – life is abandoned.

Cancers and Geminis. Death must attend.

The blood stains for the weakest and

The wrist-cuts :

For the Devil’s sermons.

The wicked smile is not mine.

Feroz is a graduate who could have easily chosen IT to be his success but decided to write instead. Also an ardent reader who'd choose books over anything and anyone.

Leave a Reply