In stark unreality,
I start with a blank
page, unwritten― but
worth reading.
A breakthrough was
needed to rip apart
the lost manhood.
My obsession with you
is growing, who will not tell
why the temple exists
without a deity.
You adore sans words
and then hide between
the signs, like a misunderstanding.
The morgue doesn't have the bodies.
A renegade comes back
deprived of arms, to die
between your lips. The
wine was tasteless.
Let the muse live without a name.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 7th, 2021 21:51
- Category: Nature
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments1
'I start with a blank
page, unwritten― but
worth reading.'
if that ain't just a perfect depiction of a poet's relationship with every new beginning..
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