For lurid details
of velvety arms,
in ashes you sleep.
Knowingly you walk
into a death well,
opening the trapdoor.
Seizure brings
the nearness to unknown,
deliberately.
I do not know me―
now, after reciting
your name.
Oh God, why did
you play with coda,
before the curtain drop?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 31st, 2019 22:21
- Category: Nature
- Views: 28
- User favorite of this poem: Laura🌻.
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