A repressed scream.
Someone breaks the head.
I was hitting the wall.
The rape hurts.
Withers away the dam.
River was changing the course.
It was very pompous;
the benign torture. No
more I belong to this world.
And the dilapidated
houseboat floats on the lake
to collect the immersed-
bones of ancesters. A
door opens. The poem prints
the pain of centuries.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2016 22:12
- Category: Nature
- Views: 26
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.