Green eyes in the crevices of rocks
will not let the fossil weep
for innocent sun.
A mayfly floats like
a dry leaf on water, in the circuit
of sharks.
I offer not my robotic arm, insulting
the jaws in the crumpled solitude
of night. I will walk
with new moon to understand
the wetting of a bleeder,
heart and soul.
The umbilical pain again catches. I cry
in my own silence. This was not the
end I wished. Hearing aid
to feel the sting of a scream,
which rises from the depth of a blue
lake wounded by pride.
Satish Verma
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline)
- Published: November 11th, 2012 22:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
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