Sunday, April 17

Benighted Omen

The distant smells that come my way,
Seem to be ripe and sway,
I wish not to see the dark times ahead,
Hear not the rumbling screams and cries,
My gaze fixed upon their revealing face,
As them demons of future stare back,
And nothing save the benighted omen,
To be found in those frightful eyes.

OKAY. It's one week before I face my sixth sem ester end-semester exams. And, continuing my tradition from last semester, I decide to return with my idiotic blogpost(s). So, I am just surfing through my archives, and -  VOILA! - I discover this. While written way back, this mini verse, never sounded more apt.

17 April, 2011 

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