Eating a suicide tree's fruit
searching for the answers.
When I am me without you;
poetry meets an accident.
I stand on the shifting sands,
asking each stone, where
was my home?
In core of your earth, I was
the centrex with no message.
The white paper and black dots―
doors had become jealous.
No light falls, on the prayer book.
I apologize for my ignorance.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 11th, 2019 20:09
- Category: Nature
- Views: 17
Offline)
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