It was a weird
night. Recreating revenge by
throwing rocks on daisies.
You bring mummified
daffodils for the queen
to stop the resuscitation.
There was so much
noise between the full stops.
Words forgot to say prayer.
When you wear the face
of animals and insects,
death becomes a religion.
How many dreams
you had under the lids to
entice the wandering poet?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 22nd, 2024 22:16
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Powerful work.
Here the metaphors are astounding only to be overshadowed by the imagery. I loved this poem which I had to read multiple times getting something new each time. Brilliant
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