In Ancient Fire

satishverma

We have come very
near to each other. The drums are ready
to go, before our assassination.

Like primitive Neanderthals,
I am carving a lined pictograph
of sobre thoughts on Hibiscus.

The solitude in haze
still calls you. The raw and burning
hurts are blood loving on the moon.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 8th, 2021 19:38
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 33
  • Users favorite of this poem: James Michael
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