The Time

satishverma

There was a lapse 
before the fall of moon. 
I am standing in dark. 

A wolf a day was 
enough to eat me. The digital 
pain seeps in the 
sad ceremony. 

Someone buries 
the hatchet in stars far away, 
wearing the black mask. 

I steal your poeny. 
Your velvety voice for the 
sake of wronged yellow. 

A candle burns 
in the white room, bereft 
of any trappings.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 9th, 2018 21:45
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 10
  • Users favorite of this poem: SilverXball
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