A gasping confession
of a pubescent fault.
Why did you enter the bed
of a molten lava?
Wisdom was in silent eyes
not on the lips of a blackened rose.
The water was white and cool
the sun was red and hot.
A mirror will never tell the truth.
Bleached was the face of moon.
One night I will be killed
in the hands of a benevolent foe.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 2nd, 2016 23:25
- Category: Nature
- Views: 5
Offline)
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