Poetry

It was chillingly true. 
You walked out─ 
of the soot, without 
leaving any footprints. 
 
There were some very 
hard questions. Why─ 
did you snap, 
while sparrows were mating? 
 
Carnage. The roses 
were burning inside. The 
red cherries shriek and 
run for the amnesty. 
 
On the terrace, the yellow 
moon descends for a─ 
word. Why the nukes were 
pointed towards the spiders?