Under The Cloud

satishverma

The depression, 
in purple moon, 
scattering black magic. 

The eatery, I ask, why were 
you hungry? 
The singsong tea pot smiles. 

The theme of mist 
valley, incites the palazzo; 
and the riots begin. 

A dark silhouette, looms─ 
against the falling star, 
I start picking up the debris. 

On the fringe of 
economic boom, I put my 
hands in the wronged shirt.

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Comments +

Comments2

  • LIGHT WARRIOR

    Amazingly written as usual

  • Caring dove

    i especially love the first few lines and your reference to the sing song teapot .. i just love the wording in this poem. truly enjoyed



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