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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