By
Sabdapalan
@sabdapalan
Sweet nothings of a seasoned
stupor;
Book in hand
Counting one by one
The ramblings of a man
condemned.
Yet, nothing matches
The late night brag -
Of intrigue and manipulation
Of blackmail and treachery.
And there; in the deep recesses
Of a city that never sleeps;
A soul awaits justice.
Sabdapalan 2020© Readersketch
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