Poetry: Heist Flows My Way

HEIST FLOWS MY WAY.
The deep night softly crept on my head
So I lay my head on my bed
Some little hours of euphory in never-never land
Then came a yell which screeched me out of my country
Into another country of dismay.

Lo, two unmasked dacoits surge my room
Alas! Heist flows my my way again
The dysphoria of one dacoity still flanking my memory lane
Yet another springs forth.
What shall become of it?

This sight made me stampede towards hills of safety
But there was none
Safety was found only in my mind
The thought of survival was safety
But, it was far from me for fear was upon me

A muslim prostrate on the floor
With my spirit so poor

Where is the money, where is the money?

This heist isn't too successful, looks like
And...

My Reverend says to my mother
Take heart woman, it is one of those things in life
Your son's death was so painful
We loved him. Christ loved him more.

Lo, fear's vision
For horror killed me seven times before i was killed
And this shall end forever false.

Where is the money, where is the money?
Have you no money?
Stay down.

A slavery march into my uncle's room

Where is the money?  Show us!

I know not where.

Another thralldom march into my room
A muslim prostrate on the floor
And my spirit so poor

Stay down else i go shoot you.

Heist flows my way again
When my uncle was away
The dysphoria of one dacoity still flanking my memory lane
Some little hours of euphory in never-never land
Then came a feminine yell, my uncle's wife's, bereft of her money
That screeched me out of my country
Into another country of dismay.

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