Electrons vibrate in the air,
Musty and foul in his lair,
Spiders crawl up and rats march the floor,
He gets a knock on his door
Flashes of memories linger,
His heart pounds with anger,
He crumples in anguish,
Death was his only wish.
The daily digest bore him with the rituals of rage,
The day masqueraded as time ticked for his age,
The radio blurted out static messages,
The speeches were of rage.
He opens the door, infallible and absent-minded,
The figure stood 8 feet tall,
Cloak and scythe, the usual routine,
Red sharp eyes peek out with an icy gaze,
“You wanted to take a shot?”
They found him dead on the floor,
He took up more space than he ever wished for,
Flies congregating where once there was a face,
Today the photos show his daze
He was the star of the masquerade,
The news of the digest,
People marched by in a parade,
The tortured soul laid to rest
Vijaya Balan (2010)
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
Electrons vibrate in the air,
Musty and foul in his lair,
Spiders crawl up and rats march the floor,
He gets a knock on his door
Flashes of memories linger,
His heart pounds with anger,
He crumples in anguish,
Death was his only wish.
The daily digest bore him with the rituals of rage,
The day masqueraded as time ticked for his age,
The radio blurted out static messages,
The speeches were of rage.
He opens the door, infallible and absent-minded,
The figure stood 8 feet tall,
Cloak and scythe, the usual routine,
Red sharp eyes peek out with an icy gaze,
“You wanted to take a shot?”
They found him dead on the floor,
He took up more space than he ever wished for,
Flies congregating where once there was a face,
Today the photos show his daze
He was the star of the masquerade,
The news of the digest,
People marched by in a parade,
The tortured soul laid to rest
Vijaya Balan (2010)
