Monday, 29 September 2014

Faceless, Nameless-II

Lonely , desolate roads tonight are alone,
The cobbled stones will not be bloodied anymore.
There is no faceless, nameless boy here tonight,
To shed blood with all his might.

There is a faceless at a ballroom,
As sharply dressed as his knife.
There is a nameless at some dinner table,
Dissecting through meat as if it were of another stable.

Faceless makes a joke,
All faces rise up in a roar.
Beneath the table, faceless feels his knife,
The blood thirsty stranger tonight will get respite.

Faceless blends in , becomes a part of them,
Yet no one can see his diadem.
He lures one named face into a dance,
And now he hopes for bloody trance.

The waltz moves on, the sweet talk drools on,
And at the right time, comes a flash of the knife.
A flash through the spine-no more tables left to dine,
Lying in some corner, she looks like another one who had too much wine.

Faceless continues without a face,
His knife clean-without a blood trace.
Faceless looks out to find another one,
Till ballrooms happen at lonely desolate roads.

No comments:

Post a Comment