His Heart on His Skin

By Dr. V. L. Rinawmi

Walked as though he lived a thousand lives,

On a relentless mission of revenge,

Rode the panhead “hell cycle” chopper

Whiskey in his hands, he yelled at the passer–by

Cigarette burn marks on his skin,

A willful guy, a demon from hell,

Naive to the core, a stubborn–ass;

Bruised up, inked onto his flesh

Tells the story of his wretched life.

When the world keeps shitting on him,

A psychopath, he finally snapped,

Scarier than the made–up ones,

He craved for something: world domination

And for temporary promises,

Sold his soul to the devil;

As his heart turned to stone

Anger, jealousy and vengeance

Were tattooed all over his chest.

His body printed as blank pages

To be filled with the ink of his reckless heart,

Like the ones you’ve seen in the movies,

Wanted to even the odds,

Greed and hate made up his soul,

A terrifying antagonist, a maniac

Imposing a never–ending discomfort

Locked up in his mental prison

Against the world that is so wrong.

Falling further forevermore

Into the sheer chaos of his own demise,

He watched over the world

With malevolence; with revenge served cold,

As he laced up his stone-cold heart

He chose to die the villain,

Wrapped himself in death like suits of armor,

In the pale moonlight beside the Devil’s shadow

Yet random bits of knowledge and philosophy

Were inked on his handsome charismatic face!

By Dr. V. L. Rinawmi