Time was short
and I was in hurry.
In Prophet of grief―
humility of pain was evident,
when you bit your tongue,
chewing unsavory words.
It was the trouble.
You wanted me to wait―
till eternity.
Someone throws an incendiary
device towards me.
I am burnt alive.
There was no need to invite
a moon. When talking to
you, I need a dark night.
Counting annual rings
of a felled fig tree,
Buddha becames very sad.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 14th, 2019 20:04
- Category: Nature
- Views: 32
Offline)
Comments1
Nice. May this suffering in our world be joined with His -the God whom lowered Himself to suffer death on a cross for us.
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