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assassination. forlorn kill Morose Poetry

Character Assassination


Caught in the middle

unable to face  all

Stood morose and forlorn

knew not what to do

Could pity her at the most

She being at fault

Having  committed  a crime

Not anything simple

Akin to a murder

Mean I not literally

Mean I the alleged

An indirect kill

Her words and thoughts

Pierced and bruised

Tore and tarnished

Hurt and caused a death

Well, she is an assasinator

Being that of a character.

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Categories
kill massacre Poetry seven storm stroke

The Annihilation


I sit in an enclosed room
rather a securely closed house
secure in a sense different
closed in a way equally challenging
Yet I feel insecure
apprehensive rather
scared in a way
frightened in a tone
a stroke here
a beat there
a slam with a force
a slap and a blow
with the blood in my hands
I stand aghast
I stand there at the behest
I stand in a test
it could be for the best
Look, I like a terrorist
Look, I like the one
who killed the guard at Ottawa
who stormed into a cafe at Sydney
who brutally massacred the innocent in Peshawar
Well, in a way, yes
it was seven at one stroke
a striker with a prowess
fearful do I seem
not to prolong anymore
I annihilated seven mosquitoes
altogether in a powerful strike.terrorist

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Actions Evolution Experience fall feelings Full interest. kill learning Life Poem subscriptions thoughts threat.

Kate is Not Alone


smell a ratKate smells a rat in his perseverance.
His persistence has a hidden reference
as he is driven to the convergence
to distract her from diligence.

Kate ignores his indecent howl.
She minds not his tongue foul.
She shuns his untimely prowl
as it casts an odious growl.

The man behind him is a defined evil.
He plots Kate’s kill.
He pays his aid a heavy bill
as he aims to rob Kate of her fill.

Kate knows the plan to the full.
She faces him like a terrific bull.
His attempts to mollify her becomes null
as she implicates a vigorous pull.

The doer would encounter severe threads
in the form of words put up to the read.
The imposter would be put to a dread
which would make him one with the dead.

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Actions Anger authority Enrichment Environment Evolution Interpretation kill Perfidy Poem Poet Sly sneer Theory thoughts threat. turmoil

The Three Dimensions.


Round and round goes the clock.

It is a rotation of its little hands.

Round and round goes the earth.

It is a revolution on its own axis.

 

Round and round goes the Man.

It is a movement to circulate physically.

Round  and round he craves in.

It is a motion to spread slander.

 

The clock shows time in precision.

Enacting day and night in decision.

The earth extends to life  a bounty

Enlivening  men and animals  to a dainty.

 

Man breeds enmity  in a concealed security.

He nurtures vengeance in a confided intimacy.

Killing one another is his  discreet strategy.

Annihilating the existence in totality.

 

 

 

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Actions Anger Experience feelings kill Life Lost subscriptions thoughts threat. turmoil

There The Brute Shoots.


There he  shoots.

 Is it to runaway with a boot?

 Or else to enter into a loot?

 Much more to unplug the root.

  More so to express hatred in a hoot.

 Nay it is to kill the  devotees in a sudden shoot.

 Drastically to kill kids in an unexpected  offshoot.

 Thus introducing a bloody route.

Indeed the deal is beyond compute.

The aftermath is chronically acute.

Please, call him  a wicked brute.