When I try scribbling down
Beware of me
Unknown fears grip me
Putrid demons possess me
Till the last drop from the stylus
I should erect a signboard – beware of a beast in pain
Memories which maul me apart,
Silent crimes chill out my ear
All those stale dark scents
Appear on my nib.
Scent of her which turns to
The stench of decayed ruins of imagination
I pray for the life of a moth
To live full for just two days
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