Language Of Mass Destruction Poem by Vishal Sharma

Crying tears of acid pain, on the floor
of that blackened room.
That poison-ridden tongue of hers,
drowning out the moon.
Her fatal words, disguised as charm,
aiming for his heart
And roaring lips of quiet lust spit
homicidal darts.
Her hidden thoughts being born aloud,
in crackling shades of shout;
Syllables lined with harsh intent,
tempting him to be cowed.
Lyrical verses of lucid assault, planned
in the planes of Hell -
Grammatically sewn by the Devil
himself, in his Secret Scribing Cell.
Penned by the spear that pierced
Jesus' flesh, in an ink spawned from
dead hopes and dreams.
The desired effect is to seep deep
inside and lure out those sadistic
screams.