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Baked Flesh
#WritcoPoemPrompt22
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim,
A vampire son of a lost tribe,
Walk on the sand like a Zombie kin,
Chased by the riders and set ablaze,
Why so cruelty without any shame,
He was a lost warrior,
Not a vagabond victim,
Has fought for his love and ditched by his men,
A voice came to wrap this man,
Half burnt body shall be taken to the land,
A present to the Queen who rules the sand,
Will have her pleasure from the baked flesh,
The victory of the glory will produce the grain,
Without any clouds there will be rain,
He laughed in the end as the camera rolls,
Director shouted it's the end of the role...
© Fareed Ahmad khan
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim,
A vampire son of a lost tribe,
Walk on the sand like a Zombie kin,
Chased by the riders and set ablaze,
Why so cruelty without any shame,
He was a lost warrior,
Not a vagabond victim,
Has fought for his love and ditched by his men,
A voice came to wrap this man,
Half burnt body shall be taken to the land,
A present to the Queen who rules the sand,
Will have her pleasure from the baked flesh,
The victory of the glory will produce the grain,
Without any clouds there will be rain,
He laughed in the end as the camera rolls,
Director shouted it's the end of the role...
© Fareed Ahmad khan
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