Poetry

What would you seek 
from the collection─ 
of lyrics? 
It is getting dark. 
 
Dismantling the notes, 
I heard, when tears 
were sitting dead in─ 
the crying eyes. 
 
Life reeks with the violence, 
from inside. You wanted 
one more religion to 
atone for the stink. 
 
But the signs will not 
convey. I become the war, 
the missile to destroy 
my own kingdom.