It was less savory.
The tibia breaks and you
enter into unbuttoned dress.
...
You become a crimson
dusk in a sea of greens.
The cost of the murder
had increased.
...
A fugitive moon
appeared, after the blaze of the sun,
in a frozen standoff,
died.
...
It returns to haunt,
the dilemma, of disowning
the old version of truth;
when I was searching the parallelism
...
Burning rocks had
a near miss. The
questions splatter
the blood-
...
Be tender, with me―
in midstream.
I will not arrive.
...
As I come, for molarity
without molars.
No grinding was left
in the millstones.
...
The mess you made, was
apocalyptic.
How the debris streaks
like a fireball.
...
The rocks in water
like words, between
the tears.
Quasi-pain, reverberating
...
Like war of words.
A fierce battle of winds
erupted between
mountain and woods.
...