Leave me alone
amidst the daisies.
I have come to talk
to a quivering dandelion.
I must see. I must
count the teeth of the tiger
who had stopped killing
the bucks, but-
there was death in the grass.
Cannot believe in
shadows moving behind the
moon. The space was
shrinking, and tongues were
very sharp, but -
there was death in the grass.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 7th, 2016 23:20
- Category: Nature
- Views: 11
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.