Half-right, half-wrong―
faltering on altar,
I have come to―
pay back my debt.
The listening now stops.
Only unheard monologue―
will continue in void
wringing out the tongue.
The burning man will
not scream, even in ashes.
I did, what you did not.
I have cut off my thumb.
Looking at you nonchalantly
I pick up my thoughts in mess,
to stitch my death cap―
stepping out in dark.
All night it rained. I
will not leave any footprints.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 31st, 2020 20:26
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
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