BRINGING DOWN

satishverma

The road breaks here. 
Give me something to heal the fractured earth. 
Angels are too much for me, the 
gash turns inward ripping apart 
eternal vigil. 

They head into the burning books 
and then explode themselves 
on wet sands, generating grids, blithely lethal. 
Wired blind, the sun weeps. 
A green catastrophe tears a huge iceburg. 

Post-coitol emptiness. The sweet nothing 
stops. He becomes everything, the world 
was not. The clouds bleach, moon 
strips to bone. The artist goes into 
exile to find a fiction.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 30th, 2011 21:57
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 12
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