There Was No Subject

satishverma

After an aggressive
kiss of life, a very restless
soul, trapped in the stale body,
wants to escape.

In dead of night, it
rains inside the eyes, on paper
and in poems.

You trip when a
decapitated head of the
past wants to bite.

Not an anomaly, you
were wished in the wet prayers
of a kneeling goddess.

We do not reach
the question marks, and
answers are in our hands.

Do we see the silver
in dark clouds?
Who knows the unwritten?

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 16th, 2021 19:53
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 8
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