Symbols are true, because they are there.
Your solemn ache
proud of failure
traces a circle.
Dark and eternal, in all its purity
punishment becomes an award for life.
It is not difficult to know
whether a god exists.
You commit suicide to become a god.
Inoculating falsehood
dying daily unto death was not my pitch.
Your mind breaks the moon in dark,
into hundred bright crumbs.
Each bit becomes a metaphor
To shock the garden.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 8th, 2015 00:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
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