Tonight
the nectar will be spread
to tame a random tormentor.
Black and white,
I never saw my father weeping.
Lonely he was.
I am
my own creation today
weather beaten. Confession to -
confession, unread. When the-
storm was tethered,
there was flooding and neck deep-
you were in tears. Am cannibalizing
my own poems, to write a new line.
It was a midnight moon.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 30th, 2016 22:46
- Category: Nature
- Views: 32
Offline)
Comments1
nice poem, interested in reading more
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