satishverma

The Blame Game Begins

The trauma gives me a 
severe jolt. 
The paper nest of 
wasps remains unbroken. 

There was an ethereal 
feel. One outwardly thought. 
We should be ready for 
a final war. 

Between words and deeds 
the religion was expanding. 
River of blood was becoming 
thick. Can you walk on the 
frozen bodies? 

The title of the substory 
changes. Every executioner 
had a deep hurt inside.



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