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Blood Lust

what he sees scares him, makes him shudder, that thick, muscular neck of that ogre angling out from under that rock skull, taut trapezius, menacingly dark, dull; beneath brutish brows, sharp, smoldering, blood-shot eyes glare, ferociously scanning the arena for anyone daring, still standing, trumpets blast, the maddened mob starts to sing; before the crazed crowd, they clash once again, pandemonium with every slash and then, both mortally struck, they stagger and fall, the rabble's blood lust, not appeased at all !

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things