A tight fist holds the neck
the throat gets stuck
unable to move could only buck
strangle comes into force
has not been in the course
never did occur in the flow
could anyone expect it with a know
impossible quoth the mind
being a differential kind
could not lead the blind
well, strangling unmindfully
the fist fastens to it relentlessly
the throat is chocked to the core
the voice dies down with a roar
could that be the endI tremble
no, that is only the preamble
the metaphor strikes apart
the bad that shows up be the belief
with a gaudy sense of relief
uncermoniously is bellowed down
trapped and massacres by the drone
a literal strangle looks mild
the deep insight into the nuances is filed
strangle is a battle fought with no luck
a submission more or less like a tame duck.
Meenas Poems 