Dilip Muralidaran

One man’s lust for money made him move cities,
His wife a deadly puppet moved along with him,
His lust for money hit the brakes, a dancer’s bust and her beautiful shape,
I guess some money and medical help she did take,
Funny though, his wife knew his bitch yet his marriage not at stake.

His bag of love danced in the night, her curves, her ass was so tight,
There came a day when she lost all her might,
She could not do her moves, not one right,
The man could not bear his bitch’s plight,
He decided to save her for another night.

He went to his wife and told her this stuff,
She couldn’t care if she hadn’t heard enough,
She gave him her anklet to feed his lust,
She had in her husband all the trust,
While her husband was sinking in the dancer’s lust.

There lived a king that lusted to be just,
He confused ruby’s and pearls, stirred the hornets’ nest,
He killed the man for he was a thief,
His woman came down with mountains of grief,
She went to the King and proved her husband isn’t a thief.

The luster of justice stopped his beat,
He served his justice; He gave up to breathe,
Our woman just wouldn’t go away,
This little king’s blood would not make her day,
She wanted lives while the devils prayed.

She cooked a city so green and so lean,
She took the lives, what a bloody scene,
That her anger shall be written in stone,
Her massive terrorism shall be known,
Trumpets and Horns shall be blown.

What made one life so special no one knew,
A man with his hands on another woman’s bust,
His wife should still love him, it’s a must,
His death avenged, a city burnt to null,
Lust for violence, she rang the death knell.