Buried in a shiny grave,
a redefined religion
becomes the first god
of scams.
Attaining Moksha,
breaking the law of rebirthing,
in barking dogs.
This was a stunning
betrayal of―
human race.
A lone gunner
pulls out the gun and
starts shooting everyone
resembling him.
I become worried
about the mental health
of unfolding mortals.
Grief was not my asset.
The planet was falling apart.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: October 3rd, 2019 18:14
- Category: Nature
- Views: 79
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.