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

Categories
thoughts

Know Not.


It was a tapping

know not from where

It was a rapping

know not from where

it was a slapping

know not who did it.

It was a strapping

know not how they did it.

it was a beating

know not how severe it was.

It was a thrashing

know not to what degree.

It was defeating

know not how much it would be.

It was a struggle

known to all fully  well.

 

know not.