I have decided
my poem will be a curse…
My voice will hit the stars and they will conglomerate
collapsing their galaxy into the guilty men’s destiny
the death will be a perfume they would crave for..
when all my curses will blow up their star
practically they will be erased from the universe library
I will establish a vortex just for them, the guilty men
who now are hiding under their mothers’ skirts
crying for nobody listen to their side of story
as if that poor girl who died, raped and beaten and thrown off the bus
has still the opportunity to tell her side of story..other than her destroyed body…
back to the vortex, the one my mind is creating right now
will sip your every cell, every shade of light in your eyes
slowly, slowly….slow motion is a must when torture enters the scene
Trust me I am in no rush….
Every pain must be savored…
For my name is Ashra
You got mail
The girl that you murdered is now on the right side of God
gently smiling as she admires her new pair of wings
Me, Ashra I am to blame for her nightmare memory loss
An intensely passionate poem that delivers a thunderbolt narrative.
Thank you so much, Louis Kasatkin!!!