The grain of wood 
was nuanced for naked aggression. 
The groping could not find 
the plasma. 
Some non-believers were 
deemed insane 
by rust-tainted smiles 
of shimmering stars. 
Defiant was the crushed 
grass after caressing 
the moon in lonely 
night. 
The fine truth passed 
through the comb falling on 
salt. The sky will not 
listen to the dust.
- 
                        Author:    
     
	satishverma ( Offline) Offline)
- Published: August 6th, 2015 23:20
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9

 Offline)
 Offline)


 
                      
			
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.