(a prolonged passing thought, while passing through the Delhi metro tunnel... ignore the jerks!!)
i feed on death.
Death shall guide me.
i aim your heart out, entering its deepest to quench my thirst. evading my way though the multiple layers of nerves, tissues and the exhilarating blood.
i must reach the unattainable depths of heart and see the lover complain.
i shall leave the nozzle of my beholder,one by one dispelling me like a tree sheds its yellow and so does a man.
Dispel me, a waste. but i am no yellow of thine nasty human or overgrown tree. i am a work of art, they, my protectors(dispensers) believe.
the giver of my birth is no female. there cant be any "she". i am the collective of all the history drowned in hatred. i pop in you and guaranteed salvation shall knock at the gates of your consciousness.
