The calling deepens at
night, when it is pitch-dark
and I go in abyss.
Unknowable my angst,
keeps me restless to blunt my
hyperaesthesia, which wants to
drink moonlight.
Clumsy with my pen,
I write and rewrite a message
which will not reach you.
You have the same faith,
as that of the sleeping bo tree for the
god of void and blankness.
Tell me, what is a classical
fall of animated suspension.
You leapfrog for the bird catchers.
I plead guilty.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 20th, 2020 19:26
- Category: Nature
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments1
brilliant!
I will admit, I read your write's hoping to learn as much as to enjoy,
'Guru' - I humbly thank you
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