Spooked by a two headed snake,
a double of a living person squirms.
A moral crisis comes out
of a cage.
The private space is violated
and bloodbath of robins start-
to understand the unrest.
Antimatter will keep the mystery alive.
A distorted truth falls in your lap
like a figurine asking your pardon.
The dogma lies in mess. Chronology
moves forward for future dates.
This is not unusual. A wounded
lion has a sanguinity
of exactitude, lying on
a stretcher.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: January 8th, 2016 22:53
- Category: Nature
- Views: 4
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.