THE WALLS


A green smoke was rising 
to ferret out 
the elusive pain 
without body. 

I went in search of 
fidgety words 
to patch up the conflicts 
of flesh. 

Bold as Passiflora, 
Crucifixion was complete. 
Today a gift of obeyance 
will arrive. 

It was a fake. 
The eyes on the hump. 
Camel has to cross 
a steep desert.

Satish Verma




Information of the poem satishverma
  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 16th, 2011 21:00
  • Category: Unclassified
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