THE MASTER OF PUPPETS

Burning, driven by the desire.
The massacre in the fatal mire.
Jaundiced love and sickening hate,
Reckless mercenaries at the ravaged gate.
On their knees, on that withering day,
To their master, the zombies pray.
The carnage over, they ask for a favour-
Not passing independence; freedom forever.

As cold as death, the commander smiles,
Still lies ahead the uncharted miles.
There is no respite till he gets what he craves,
Everyone, everywhere, are to be his slaves.
The king of the world, the master of puppets,
Though he stabbed his love, there are no regrets.

UNFORGIVEN

A sinner up to the very brim; once again,
Vaunting the wickedness, basking in the pain.
The dark energy showing its undivine wreath,
The swelling pride and the impassive breath.

Breach of conduct and the condemned honour.
Chilling wails of the banshee mourner.
Happiness, at the occurance of the impiety,
The abstract values of a belligerent society.

Murdering the cherubs of love and peace,
The sensual caress: the demonic kiss.
A mind and body by the Satan driven,
Apathy: I am unforgiven.

ROSE

The mornig dew caressed the blooming rose,
The silent admirer sat still and close,
Wishing it to stay the same way- sweet and innocent.
Maturity would make it wither- the loss of its scent.

The rose made him fall so deep in love
Imagination reared and a new world he wove,
For both of them to live forever,
Where they will not be sad- never.

But just as his heart started to swell,
The lonely rose cried, and withered and fell.