Pass Words Poem by SYAM CHANDRAN PERINKULAM

PassWords Are Elves
They Rustle In The Attic Of
My Soul.
Like Gossamers
They Wrap My Brain.
PassWords For ATM,
PassWords For E.Mail,
PassWords For Official Sites.
In My NightMare
A YoungMan Hanged
On A Chord Made Of PassWords.
A Nursling Asks The PassWords Of
Mom's Breasts.
PassWords...PassWords.. EveryWhere.
I Am Drenched & Soaked Of PassWords.
Oh The Creator Of Universe
Give Me The PassWords Of
My Perpetual Births & Deaths.