Prostitute

November 29, 2010 Off By Rupkamal Sarma

Behind serpentine bars on tired windows,
Sits n stares my childhood,
Yesterday was an abyss; tomorrow is a myth,
Glazed eyes
Pregnant skies above and quagmire of ravens below

Icicles of frozen teardrops stab my heart,
Sap of my life oozes forth; drop by drop and now a torrent
Below in the street, ravens sit in conference and caw
Clawing at my meat,
Gurgling my blood, Cries of rejoicing
Screams of my raped soul stir me in my sleep.

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