By Doyel Bhattacharjee
"I will give you hell"
No, you cannot
Not because you're any less evil
It's only I'm afraid of naught
Hell is a personal
Oscillating loop
A circular maze
Of relentless pursuit
You cannot give me hell
Our definitions differ
Yours has burning embers
Mine's as delicate as a flower
Hell fire is bright
Cannot be quenched by any storm
You misunderstand
I would burn Rome to feel it's warmth
You cannot give me hell
I pay for my sins as a living
Hell is a word of guilt
Taught for a shilling
My hell is surrounded by
Chrysanthemuns, carnations, camellias anew
Snow melting to sea water
And cracked glaciers very few
Ah dearest dear
Does that seem heaven to you?
You live for penance, my dear
I live for unpaid dues
The burnt loves the fire
The alcoholic, the burn
The priest speaks louder
Only when the heretics scorn
So tell me, dear
Can you still make me scream
Someone whose fear
Is daisies and a clean stream
You can laugh, my dear
Laugh at yourself and at me
A mad man is a man, rich
But a mad woman is a conniving little witch
Can you give me hell?
A cacophony of symphonies
Much too melancholy
For your eulogies
No you cannot give me hell
Something so utterly delicate
Take back your foolish words
I have no guilt left to repent
By Doyel Bhattacharjee
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