House of Traps
Harshit, Age 18, New Delhi, India
                      You wake up in the morning
Opening your eyes while yawning
You find yourself where you were not last night,
Thatís when your senses start to fight,
Seeing those faces cry which you havenít seen before
For traps are lurking behind each door.
You start asking the reason
For your presence in such a prison.
They donít tell you much but scare you with their acquaintance
Of the possible serial killer behind such a disturbance,
You find a tape recorder under the carpet
Listening to which you all are set.
Yes, it was him telling the rules of the game,
Transgression of which if forward came,
You will be winning a deadly chance to meet death
Or else to be safe, you should play having faith,
In the chances of survival that are rare,
and reason for the game lies in what common you all share.
There are not only traps but also chances.
And rare are the places where death itself dances.
You have poison running in your veins
Which will be robbing you out of your senses,
To which only he has the antidote.
Now start consuming the time youíve got,
Which is getting finished every moment,
Do it till you further canít,
There are no promises that youíll survive,
No matter how hard you try to stay alive.
Itís the game that began on his call
But would end with you after all.
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