Will I know you―
by unknowing myself in bleak―
moments of giving
wings to you?
Raising your legacy; losing
my words, I block
a masterstroke. Something
was wrong. I was walking alone.
Disrobing a covered
statue, the anguish of
incorrectness hangs.
Enduring a song of―
drums, calling the sun from clouds
for a wounded earth.
What was truth
in jungle of beasts? Any
humming left on the lips of trees?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2019 19:57
- Category: Nature
- Views: 8
Offline)
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