Comfort In Hobbling Home

Washed by tears, the flame kindled again. Crimson magma was quick to engulf the drops on forehead. Fired from close range the bullets opened the bloodgates in quick succession. It should not have happened! Therefore the journey resumes outside the good or the evil. The rdx bombs are found at your doorsteps and you watch helplessly the murder on dining table. Are you safe in linens of truth? The lip gloss of diplomacy will work? The sea was turbulent and a hijacked trawler was left on waves with the shot body of captain. Your hands are trembling on the knobs without doors. Through the death I perceive a child crying in the arms of a sobbing galaxy. There were needles on the road and our soles were bleeding. SATISH VERMA