In your blood are you
comfortable? I will give you myself
whole. Can you call me Buddha?
Want to take away my
blackness without any confession. Your
tongue had become blue, hinged.
Why disquieting under
the water. It is not the shipwreck. We
are swimming to find the depth of love.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 20th, 2021 23:43
- Category: Nature
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments1
'Why disquieting
under
the water.
It is not the shipwreck. We
are swimming
to find the depth of love.'
Guru, your words
need to be enshrined somewhere
so all of time can reflect and acknowledge
such a distilled account, of humanity's
most self-destructive: trait
those festering poisons that lurk, beneath our skin
in our shallow rivers of tainted blood, 'veined-glory'
from the divisive oxygen of intolerance and hate
we've been force-fed, since birth....!
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