It was night’s fury
whipping up hysteria
on specks of flames, dancing in pain.
On a heap of ashes
and bones where a child of death
will be born.
Before fading,
moon will kiss the golden thighs
of sun and think aloud
dying shirtless in intimate
ambit of sky.
Satish Verma
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 9th, 2011 22:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
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