The snakeskin smiles.
Shoes hurt, when
somebody gives away mercy.
Fidelity has come
for sale. You want to listen
Beethoven only.
The questions were mine. You
had no answers.
I never want to talk
about truth, as if everyone knows
it. I write poetry.
Did you jump into a
dry pool to know
the depth of sky.
Do you think
that was a right thing
to become a saint.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 2nd, 2022 20:53
- Category: Nature
- Views: 32
Offline)
Comments1
'I never want to talk
about truth, as if everyone knows
it. I write poetry.'
how pathetic
all those hours
invested
and yet, still envisage
Poetry
devoid of Truth...
truly
a sad, bitter
state
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