Bearing the burden of her greasy teen
She walks nearer to the lovely shore
Her mind weaving a satin nest of fantasy
Uncertain and lost she gazes at shells, sand and its shinny core
...
There she comes worrying about her act
Drax had called up as he knows it was mistake
“You informed Bond! “ bellowed Drax
...
Her skill of potion making was par excellence
Laces of her dress however were quite loose
Cumbersome were her ways of persuasion
And lonesome were the swings of her mood
...
A black zone with nobody to dwell
Something sleeping, not quite well
The bright sun of knowledge never rises there
A shying support of lies always lurk somewhere
...
Upon the table of extreme exaggeration, Mashanka stands tall
Shivering, biting the pink lips of her own
Perhaps the circus of her tender age or a focus of her unique mind
She senses love beyond the strengths of lovers of any best kind
...
“You ruined me! “– bellowed him
She was on a sofa with a magazine in her hands
Erected she her back with a surprise on her face
He ran almost like a rat in jeans
...
Not here, may be there,
I hoped, then hopped; still incorrect,
Died
In a hope
...
He attained nirvana
With the sudden opening of his parachute
Bright air rushed, heart unfold
...
Heartbreak and a computer
She was there so near
Motionless lips and dry thighs
Altered beyond the attractions of the eyes
...
The melancholy of mood is always a pain;
Poverty, separation, humiliation and no gain.
...