Make no mistake...! It comes,
It comes calling; loud n clear
search for a saviour eludes out of fear.
Perfidious Silence suffocates around
Time's Treachery or a treasonous smile
Bellicose Brutus did Caesar fell
Jaychandra perhaps had a little to yell.
It comes! often in cold blood
Pertinax, Priyadarshini or Henry three,
French heir or Roman green;
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: life and death