Snared by clouds
the crescent moon was swaying,
like a palm tree in a hurricane.
There was no ethnic
divide. My skin was colored
like your lips.
The predator was
on prowl. Don't go near
the pink lake. The animal would want
his pound of flesh.
The plurality was
at stake. I don't need to
burn the evidence. I was the kill.
An extra syllable
will claim the singulant.
You stay in motion
like hummingbird.
I will never be
myself without your
aura.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 15th, 2021 20:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 26
Offline)
Comments1
(forgive me, I was just trying to decipher the sentiment's or messages in your write with my below response, let me apologise in advance for making any misrepresentation of your intentions)..
if 'clouds' represent misguiding featherweight thought's,
and the inherited 'river of bloodied' consequence that demands its pound of 'futile flesh' is revenge,
then the 'plurality' I assume resembles the multiple response one may have to the bequeathed reality they exist within,
ultimately: citing the 'hummingbirds' gentile nature for restraint and patience, that encompasses every ideal and belief claiming to respect life,
as a dam:
against the proliferate nature for the cyclical culture of ignorance for our reactionary actions, inevitable consequences
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