Sinner Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

Serpentine corpuscles trickle to his chin
as they batter him in incensed anger's blow
but couldn't they break the broken man within
the sinner long used to seeing own blood's flow!

Kill him the frenzied crowd storms over him
ceaseless punches fall like moribund rain
insane monsters' boiling wrath's steam
would stop only when is numbed all his pain!

His meek hands vainly struggle to defend
cracked bones clang like splintered glass
head bows then curves in crumbled bend
till his frame yields to the merciless mass!

Be scared not he has died thus in the past
repaired revived and released from cell
every time coming back in renewed lust
to walk once again through the fire of hell!