MOOD SWINGS

satishverma

Must I give you 
the chilled truth of dry winds 
till the fire 
reaches the backyard? 

The half-thumb 
was held by the wheels. 
Why you were pushing 
the hearse 
of a dead lie? 

Anonymus 
was the letter written by moon 
to the damp cloud. 
The rain drops will never 
agree for the trysts.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 30th, 2013 22:33
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 6
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