Served or not
Justice is tired
He has a life term
Well fabricated trap
By proxy he is
Nested
In the uneven side of earth,
The lone window
getting ready for a sun show,
Drenched in rare chance of light
Dream sequence he builds
to be back someday
Before it gets dark
To his dear ones
To the lonely nights
To moist
Dry lips of his beloved
Pour water into
His blind father’s empty glass.
Wearing wings of
jaded imaginations
As weak as the truth
Sitting next to their
burning memories
He and his likes
turn to ashes
Unnoticed.
-30-
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