The Murder

As i went into the next door,
saw a fellow just dead,
With the blazing eyes mixing
Expressions of surprise of hatred.

For the night was still young,
And the sky lucid as never before,
I got out of that placid cell,
Which for a moment felt like hell.

With the flow of air,
The utterments rose, every head,
Young or old, man or woman
Got hold of that unheavenly event.

Soon arrived the men of justice,
Performing the folk lores of examining and judging,
Searching the wherebabouts of "scene of crime",
Guarding the people from people themselves.

Just then a guy came crying and sobbing,
"Oh my dearest what has been done" said him at once,
Looked as if he was some close to the dead one,
And yes he was husband I
heard from some.

Till dawn everyone were at their place,
Talking about the whole night's craze.
While the kin of the dead one sees her for last,
I stand right there keeping mourn

And still thinking the same from last night,
"Why had I done it?"