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The psychopath was hell en route,
Pain aching lefty tooth.
Baulked by the burning root,
Waiting for his friends’s boot.
The gall in his heart was way too dense,
His mouth still had the stinky stench.
Envy had him fully drenched,
Madness was the only bench.
He spit on the cleanest hand,
Now no one else but few do stand.
The bird with a greedy eye,
The disillusioned cloudy sky.
The psychopath will meet his mirror,
Which shows the crimes of past error.
Does the freak now feel the terror,
What tells him the magical mirror?
Does his eyes now feel to cry,
Evil worn out , time to pry.
Goodness needs just one more try,
Or we will free him…..the caustic fry..!!!
* To read more such pieces, please visit our blog: https://masqueradedinsurgence.wordpress.com/
Published by Sumana Saha
4 years ago 
