A Long Road

satishverma

Nothing to think for, 
at this moment. Faceless fears― 
like pine needles, 
prick the toes in walk. 

You cannot― 
collect the white roses 
in blue rains. 

You remember precisely, a toothless― 
poised tiger. The prey 
tied to a pole gives a 
long whimper, before being mauled. 

The game continues. You 
cannot do anything. Violence was 
real, the pen becomes the 
weapon. 

You start drawing vultures.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 9th, 2019 19:32
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 42
  • User favorite of this poem: Unobtrusive Sun.
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Comments1

  • Unobtrusive Sun

    I love this writing. Thank you for a great post!



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