Tag Archives: Win

Child Labour

Ring ring the poor girl dies

Surprise me if an onlooker tries

Death as if the lil one fell asleep

Right where her broom used to sweep

Would someone embrace her now

In life not but in her last vow

So little but wanted to see it clean

Yet the stains on her clothes go unseen

Don’t be mistaken by the innocence

In her sleep, death, might you sense

Ring ring the poor girl dies

Surprise me if an onlooker tries

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A Quick Note!

Music danced over snow coloured skin of her cheeks. Those eyes, as of a wolf, staring into the horizon upon a prey faraway from her devouring canines. Such thoughts humble a wolf and then follows a look of innocence. Eyes blinking over lips, pink as smudges of twilight embracing the falling sun, forcing you to believe in one longing sight. A sight that makes you trade your very existence for it.

Dogs 

Where is it that you sniff on the boots of defeat like a hound of a hopeless clan. Dust fills his nostrils and blood falls like a red curtain, on the stage of all this drama, in his eyes. Have you seen a hound with blood in his eyes? Have you seen him shaking his head like a vehement serpent when dust fills up his snout and he growls it out on the same boots that were the mere source of dust. He eyes them now with same bloody anger that defeat brings after bringing you on your knees. Continue reading Dogs