The sword hangs. You
will not scream. There was stigma.
No style. I think. Let it go.
What magic. There
was huge money in asylum. Golden
eagle. Comorbidity. Black fungus.
Is it possible to find
human, who lives beyond himself?
Where is the truth? The poem says in me.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 22nd, 2021 19:37
- Category: Nature
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
'who lives beyond himself?
Where is the truth? The poem says in me.'
words to contemplate, deeply
thank you, Guru
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.