Numberless Crimes

I was badly shaken―
by the strange
gene expression.

When a bullet―
made a hole in your chest,
blood spilled on my book.

Ultra-conformist,
plummets to a new low.

You would not alter
like the moon's pain
and sun's tears.

Coming to a critical
threshold, when we talk
about the death.

I would say god
was the killer.