The wind was talking 
about the fever of thoughtless verdict 
of a wrong moral 
for a clean exit. 
In these times of conflict 
during green burial, you will not 
start a dialogues for fear of 
annoying the priest. 
The sun was digging out the 
cotyledons from the reactors, 
the tainted water will take the revenge 
on shocked sky. 
A hole is dug in the heart 
of scavengers. They will not 
find the healthy food any more 
in this shirtless crowd.
- 
                        Author:    
     
	satishverma ( Offline) Offline)
- Published: August 7th, 2015 22:30
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7

 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.