Learning From Relics

satishverma

Like holocaust,
rolling moon brings
massacre. You
burn inside.

The empire was in
ruins, I was searching
peace in half-truths.

A flying snake
lands on your chest,
when you were asleep.
You wouldn't find a clue.

The philosophy of
dying in beauty creates
a myth.

Why did you play with
questions. There were no
answers.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 20th, 2023 20:20
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 4


To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.