
There are many ways to kill;
The short sharp shock of the battlefield bullet
Intent on piercing its way through tissue and bone
Till it arrives at its final destination;
Spent of venom,
And gives kindly relief
Then there is the drum full of caged liquid fire
Lovingly licking all accessible tender skin, hair and eyes;
Barbequed flesh done to perfection.
Finally there are words and fists in equal measure
Each a little death in itself but not quite;
Only the laboured breaths know
Of the agony of waiting for the next
Until surrender to oblivion’s tender embrace.
By Gopali Ghosh on CRUEL
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