INNOCENT WAS THE BETRAYAL

The rose month is coming 
I am not ready to receive the guest. 
Mistletoe will takeover 
With folded hands wind was blowing 
No star accepted the gift 
of burning earth. 

He walked alone in the ruins 
to search the time of rich. 
His hunger did not find the bread. 

He thought he was good as a bone 
in the diet of sunset 
on the snurfs of dew. 

Innocent was the betrayal 
under the sheets. 
Pert was the sting. 

Myth stumbles out from dead souls 
I am walking behind the moon 
your hand was on my shoulder.

Satish Verma