Last Hope

satishverma

When the dialogue stops 
there will be a royal bleed. 

I had not come to the 
terms of slaughter. 

Wanted now, to manage 
the anguish incontinent. 

Can you find some space in 
waiting, for the hangman? 

Footprints and invisible faces. 
Somewhere a hope lives in amber. 

Trapped light, in wintery dark, 
will stop a seed to play the nocturne.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 2nd, 2018 20:17
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 8
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