It’s a cold, windy night
Its eerie whispers sound
Escaping from the crevices of the metal clanking beside
Into the air, the anarchist blankets the town
It plummets meticulously into the streets
Foretelling the horrors near
In its rasp, harsh voice
The stench of which it shall bear
And as it falls upon his face
Its companion it does meet
It sweeps away the cold sweat
From the hazed figure it shall last see
Enraptured by the hellish glow
Whipping around, the figure it does embrace
Lured by the ambitions profound,
Quenching its thirst, the corpses it shall grace
Oblivious of the visitor beside
Determined, he strides forward
Minusculed by the hardened look, the steady hands
Swaying wildly, his shadow follows
The velvety night stretched across
Harbouring the shimmering jewels beneath
Its craft unduelled lays in the dunes of time
Faithfully reflected upon its sheen
And though into its dreary depths
Lay treasures, mysteries to uncover
Envisaging the satanic glow below
Grabbing the night beside, the jewels quiver
The white sphere coruscates, fills the sky
A heavenly glow emanates
The rays rivet down, searing through the misty night
Kissing themselves, lay dazed
Like the others, nor the water's at peace
Still visions it faithfully reflects
Trying to behold her lover's image inside
The sphere dissipates, the morbid night left
And he trudges along, a fixed purpose
His hollow thoughts, him they guide
Like darkness to a blind man
Driving the dead soul, his malice
Lighting the remnants of his bitter past
He treads upon the carpet of emotions laid
Each strand captivates, to avenge
Each strand a woeful tale it says
Some forlorn iridescent strands of the carpet
Of fragile memories prized, of bliss
Of the trance of her charm, the vista unbound
The touch of her lips, the emblazoned kiss
Their contact, it frightens him
Onto the winding path he carries on
And the destination nears, illuminated
By the ire of vengeance, of the armour he dons
Without hesitation or conscientious thought
He opens fire on the innocuous crowd
His sadist bloodshot eyes staring into the void
And with each drop spilled, for more the metal growls
Cries of agony awake the night
Mangled bodies strewn across
And pleas of mercy and help muffled
Of wind's insane mirth, from the present it had sought
The crimson hue of the landscape
The glistening red it boasts
Fulfilling a painter's dreams, the mound of bodies
Seeds of death plants it has sown
Mingled with gore, the mud beside
And marred bodies within it trapped
And the dreams that shall never be fulfilled
And memories that shall never be cast
A spectacle of plight of men and women he witnesses
A greater good he achieves
Corpses of dead infants clinging to their mothers
He fulfills the dream of his creed
Remorse and anguish dawns
He gazes the eyes of a lifeless girl
And the troubled memories again hit
And onto his feet the carpet unfurls
Tears trickle down, his features soften
Picking the metal that has long been part of his
He looks up, announcing his arrival
Falls with a mundane finality as it hits
-Archit
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