Not superficial,
real inside,
something was ruined.
Tonight I will walk out in dark
beyond me.
Creased,
under tyranny of love,
wanted to unwrite the script
in the stampede of sins.
Impeachment
throws up the shock syndrome.
No wish to swim back.
Drowning, clutching my truth.
A mystic paradox?
Million faces of yes or no.
Wrinkles are getting larger.
Satish Verma
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: October 31st, 2013 22:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.