It's just a blip.
Waiting in the corners
To make a point and
Then, not able to
Escape the cobwebs
It's been caught.
And sometimes,
It's just an elaborately
Woven novel with layers
Unveiling the plot lines
And finally reaching
A bookshelf of the
Public library to
Stay haughty all the time.
It has been a loosely
Edited Tarantino movie
Most of the time-
A heist gone wrong,
Murders, blood and
With the police involved-
Sometimes you're guilty.
Sometimes it's me.
The blame like a
Fire-ball passed on to
One another's peril to
Push each other to
The gallows-
As the noose tightens
Around our necks-
Amoursly making out again
Without any regard for
The hangman-
We've shamelessly
Survived.