beneath
the surreality
the banter
the hogged lights
the omnipresence
beneath
the twitched elbows
the gnawed nails
the blood puddles
beneath them all
was the success
that could have come
happily holistically
but now neither did any one notice
nor did any one care to acknowledge
the fact
that his move was not deliberate
neither amateur
the kill amassed once was still known
but his descent had started
not now
but back’s back
like a track’s crack
small at the start
but deep as it greys
he still kills his kill
everyday
just in the hope
that people would appreciate
just in the hope
that applause will be his
what he has failed to appreciate
till now
is that he just needs to satiate himself
and not even one morose critic
not another country man
neither any of his family
then only his kill would be his.