Either you didn't see it or you were petrified to look;

I know how despicable it is to be misunderstood,

To feel how unfit you are among the people you live in.

A darkness deeper than hell twists you from within;

I know the terrible thoughts that occur,

When you see blood gushing or screams of torture.

To savor the last reminiscent of life in the body of a dead,

What soothes the coiled wires in the head.

A hunger unlimited present in the core of your being,

Which marks the agitation and insatiable craving,

Maked by as a psychic disease known as dangerous.

I know the helplessness you feel to suppress the viscous

The rules you made, the rules you abide by,

To keep the monsters tamed and shy.

Nobody sees the effort to keep the stability fair,

Just the unabashed criticism of an unemotional killer.

— Urja Ghosh
(BookLoverVenue)