When the surveillance increased,
the curtains started
falling. You were ready to
start the dialogue with death
holding off your hunger.
Each face had its history
scripted on the forehead. Dark is
after all dark. You unroll
the night-black lace and
confront the moon.
Under the old banyan tree
a dream lies with limbs tied.
A mob smears the vermillion on its body
and then starts lynching it.
I have only one question.
Why were we towed on
wrong leads for tallest peak?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 8th, 2018 20:09
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
Offline)
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