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The winged critters warbled in the inky night,

As His black cloak draped the sullied world.

Somewhere zoomed by a star bright,

Like the infernal serpent by Him hurled.


The ghostly blueish light shimmered,

In a rickety hut of slush and slime. 

Someone in a silken robe slept in a bed,

Far away from the dirt and grime.


The faithful tribe of the canines kept guard,

as a black cat with green eyes walked by.

The deafening silence in the yard

Traveled up the murky July sky.


The woman scorned by all was awake,

As men with class ravaged her.

They slithered off her naked body like a snake,

Hurling at her a juicy slur. 


The light slowly crept in between the leaves,

The cock began its daily ritual.

The men woke up with sighs and heaves,

The day gave the night a clean burial.


The black souls of the living flitted by

Like the walking dead in a cemetery. 

With a tinge of sadness He let out a sigh.

How did He mess up this beautiful symmetry!



P.C – Karthik Chandran from ‘Unsplash’

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