They descend from the sunset
casting seductive silhouettes
and opiate smells.
Stressed out in the caves
they've been craving this flight.
They'd die to be alive again.
I'm the chosen feast this friday night.
The first draw from the willing puppet...
Fangs of queries laced with chemicals to dilate,
puncture me at a thousand places,
tear open the veins & out gush the juices.
The multiple jabs, the repeated pain.
It thrills me to see
my glowing blood in their veins.
Attached to their suckers,
the drained body is raised high.
An used object ecstatic out of abuse,
screaming out in a secretive sigh.
The flash of the whip
of their sadistic master - Time
releases me as they scoot away.
Its now their turn to be the victim.
But, instantly I tumble...
Its not a flight coz I can't descend.
The night is still dark.
The floor isnt there until I see it.
And hence I look forward to a weekEnd to share with Jim after a long time.
