satishverma

Light Luggage

It was not a random
scent, when honeysuckle
entwines the moon
in evening.

The bewitching smell under your
eyes lingers, till I kiss
it away.

It tumbles out
when the speech fails.
Still I would wake in dark.

Ah, the terror
to remain alive, under
the water of mercy.

Write me off from
the hounded list. I was
walking on the crumbling
leaves of autumn.

Emotions float on
the flames, like the syntax.

Comments2

  • L. B. Mek

    'Ah, the terror
    to remain alive, under
    the water of mercy.'
    just pure poetic genius!
    thank you, Guru

  • Keith

    Beautiful.



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