My Wrath

By Naga Jahnavi Macharla

A manic mind on the way to calm the waves,

To the unpleasant, I am a slave..

Slick for a little sensitive menace,

My rhyme to calm the zealous

Quiet, I debate in blue,

A poet stuck in woe,

After all, abnormality is artistic,

Being demented is ballistic,

Arms tied, I follow an endless blackhole,

my wrath an unforgettable mole,

I will fight with my might..

While I stand at the edge, in nights

And the nights are asking for warmth,

While the days are continuous wrath…

By Naga Jahnavi Macharla