Boogeyman
- Armaan Yusuf
- Jun 18
- 1 min read
Unscathed by fire, devoid of desire
Days turn dire when his blade conspires
No pain is higher till you lay on the pyre
A sight to retire is his robe-like attire
Your life’s expired when you hear that choir
With faces entire getting erased with pliers
Of your fate, you inquire, is your faith acquired
Getting maimed with tires till your blood transpires
Missing posters and flyers filled with tears of criers
A town full of liars succumbed to a great satire.
By: Arman Yusuf

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