BEAKS OF SATIRE

Can’t find an algorithm 

To sync myself in rhythm

I am out of tune

Grains of my ruins couldn’t raise a dune

Till the horizon!

I breathe when in my own skin

Flap my wings and wave my fins

Don’t suffocate me in a rubber balloon 

I don’t want to rise up to the moon

& spill the poison!

Scouting for slumber in my dreamland

Nostalgia revealing grim reap

I was lying unconscious as damned 

Figuring how to sleep

Over a liaison!

Like a crow swinging on haywire

With its beak of satire

Acting as a twisted spoon

To pour my art in lampoon

To sour my heart on holy cross

I crawled and prowled in manner gross

With eyes-moisten! 

Written bY: Bharatshree