Philosophizing

satishverma

On the run,
was a bon viveur―
in amber thoughts.

I start unknowing you―
O invisible. A curse
will follow if you make me
a god.

I plead, standing
on the rubble, I will not learn
to live without the muse.

Sometimes you disappear
unshorn, in the rain forest―
of stunning phrases.

I hold,
the existence of a ghost.
Undying for the sake of
forced acceptance.

That was the art of inevitability.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 6th, 2019 19:55
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 9
  • Users favorite of this poem: RiverJordan
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