Feelings Of Speechless Murderer

The night was so murky;
Alone house was murmuring,
as a source of devil power…
it was a arrival time of a horrible moment
with some immature steps.
His steps were like a knob
Of……night walker, with a,
battered minatory nature.
He was a inventor of a
Introspection of himself.
No way, no scope to escape.
It was just a deletion against him
………………from mine.
Looked at me and ruffled his eyes,
And punched a shiny knife,
In the heart of him.
Oh! Christ! Who was he?
What did he want? I have felt.
He was a ingredient of silhouette.
He was self contained of fear, death, decay.
He wanted to fill, the pool
Of his mind, with a deck of blood.
He was a pantheon, as a,
Horrible leviathan.
In the night of moon-shine, he was
full of carte blanche.
It was my transparent thought that
It was his speechless solo
About some obscure past.

poem by Jayanta Banerjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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