Fantasy

I write terminally ill verses

today

Incurable says the physicians

yet, the sickness persists passionately.

I crave for divinity

and keep slaughtering gods

everyday.

my whimper echoes

on the stone walls

of ten by twelve.

the folks smirk distantly

at the distorted verses,

I laugh in delirium

I laugh ecstatic,

i laugh in fantasy.