Mr. Smith

Mr. Smith ever wondered how it feels
When there's hunger staring deep into your eyes
Penetrating consciousness plague and famine chanting lullaby
Turning into cannibalism is not my choice
Yet I stand between you and the cycle of life
Ever thought a stranger could be so important
Not considering any of your wishes, yet controlling all the senses

Before the acid fills the ambiance,
Before the music get's channelised through drills
The sound of your blood gushing from stump of your neck
Before my knife slices your throat
A swift sharp, like the first stroke of brush Subtle and precise
I'm a painter Mr. Smith don't be shy
Submit to me and I'll color the portrait you hide

Non-zero sum game, Non-zero sum game
Hahaha.......  See I'm already laughing
Adrenaline has started to rush, I can feel our heart getting pumped
Suffer dear Suffer
Dance on my canvas be benevolent and kind
Your misery is going to end, Victim or not
Make the decision tonight

I don't charge Mr. Smith I volunteer, my passion is crime
I'm menace atrociously cruel
I chain them up, strangle till the breath refuses to fight
They call me malignant killer, one who strike in cold nights
Unlike the fisherman of troubled waters
I wait for harmonious rhyme
I'm an artist, Mr.Smith I'm merciful and sublime

Yet It's an addiction Mr. Smith one I don't enjoy
The pleasure to end all the pleasures
I feel the gush I cherish the rush
You don't know the thirst that resides
But as you see, it's how I survive
I love the struggle, and that's the drug which keeps me alive
It's not dark as it sounds, why not try it sometimes

Don't worry it won't be too long, I'm just a man possed by demons

Being the shadow of my former shadow
On my command, the blood will splatter mixed with cries and flesh
Oh! god I'm blessed, very blessed

Looking at the hands yet not seeing it
I'm hidden yet visible to every being
Being the destroyer and the creator
Always ready to be slain, being a slayer

Sorry Mr. smith but sleep is what I wish to attain
Empathy is tough to teach but I know, you'll understand
The wise man grieves neither for living nor for dead
And as they say, clown's knew how to get away from murders


“You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You’re looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God!” Isn't it

By- Kshitij Sinha
22/2/2017

[Please don't judge me ;)]

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