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Waking The Demon
A cold, blunt and loathsome stare
Stood out amongst a crowd of deceitful smiles
A charred mix of melancholy oozing beneath
Filling my lungs with gorging heat
Tempted to waking the demon within
I tread past quickly avoiding a scene
Shunting his anger all over me
He shut my way out leaving me scornful
I feel the hair on my back rise
Waiting for the abrupt change
Sweat and heat shakes me with anger
Leaving me dangerous and unapproachable
Letting me go would be a wiser choice,
But no, he wouldn’t! He believes in fate
And fate is a funny thing
Because it always ends in grief..!
poem
by
Pranesh Varan
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