Dead Architecture

satishverma

My dissent grows. Moon
was still far away from my poems. A
savage atmosphere, You need celtic saint.

Will the dawn appear?
A dysplasia. The bird looks blind.
A blue jay? Will you bet on death?

Life has become an
Agave. Rosette of strong fleshy leaves.
Water inside no flowers bloom.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 14th, 2021 19:50
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 9


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