Anger

I am one of those guys with no sense in his head,

I make dreams in the bar and mate death in bed,

The pendulum swings forth as the sheets go red,

While I fight my way through nightmares of Lead,

Serving my spine for the big fat spread,

With gravies and wines and multi-grain bread,

To the demons on tables waiting to be fed,

We’ll pile up the plates and cheers will be said,

The chef’s special tonight is Blooms of Dread,

We’re running out of room, if you catch my thread,

Grab a seat right now to get your shred

Siddharth Pathak | 23rd April 2015


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