Cannot stare
coming on terror radar. Every night there
was Celsius rise in deadpeace. The climate
debt of a dark cloud was changing.
What is going to happen, tell me blindfolded.
We have a never or nothing attitude. The
roads were on edge, grazing under a blood
spinning midnight lamp, like a whipped
up cream of convenient truths. A subterranean
anger was banging against the wailing
wall. We did little in our synchronized
failure. Nobody was going to blink.
A tooth was smashed by a flying missile
of a homegrown myth. The glacier was
shy of a black fire. A holy moon becomes
opaque in white winter.
Satish Verma
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: December 13th, 2011 22:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Comments1
MY DEAR LADY END GREAT POET YOUR WORDS
COME TO LIFE AND GIVES A GLINSE OF WHAT A
HEART IS CAPABLE TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO
GIVE THE BEST IN POETRY THANK YOU THANK YOU
MY DEAR POET
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.