This post is from a low-reputation account and contains an unverified outbound link. Be cautious before clicking external links.
Someplace on the edge of the jungle
The game gives chase to the hunter
Somewhere behind the pen door
The bull gores the grinning matador
A boy seeks from the sun to the moon
A place where the lame can run and pigs do croon
A boy dances to the crackling of bombshell
An orchestra of dying breaths and burning fuel
A boy breathes flames with the midnight breeze
He hears tumbling of doors at the mercy of feets
A boy cries for help, from paradise, from hell
From the mouth that hears and the ears that tell
A boy sees betrayal in the suns stare
He gazes sleepless beneath the moons glare
A boy dines oft with death as his mate
Yet hunger plagues his every weary bite
©faheez
Photo source