Victims... <br /> <br /> <br />under the darkness <br />within the prey <br />the softest skin <br />pierced by the beats. <br />the beats of a heart <br />fallen victim to the beast. <br />ripping it in a flash <br />without an intention to kill. <br /> <br />'beneath thy shrine, <br />i hereby declare... <br />weakest art thou contemporaries <br />and those to come' <br />flashy, ornamented...yet inscribed <br />by the crippled poet.. <br />a victim of HIS HIGHNESS. <br /> <br /> <br />sorrounded by the richest walls <br />enclosed within the prisons of pine <br />fallen short of insight <br />and most of all LOVE <br />left all alone..not a gentle soul beside. <br />there lies the wealthiest man.. <br />abound in misery <br />was'nt he a victim of power? <br /> <br />little that we know... <br />walking with heads held high <br />holding our own sceptre with utmost pride... <br />bent to wade through all storms <br />shattering the intervening mist.. <br />and yet too small as we watch ourselves <br />falling victims to THE BASIC INSTINCT.<br /><br />Mustafa Mun<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/victims-4/
