Theme: Life

Native Touch

Repetition of same thought blurs the mind
invalidates the knot,
wholeness cracks, and a tremendous force
unleashes the insult to integrity.

This is how time has ripened.
Perpetual, malignant oozing from pores.
Fear enters our voice,
we start hurling stones on the icon.
And then, the nemesis takes over.

A dimpled moon tumbles down the tree,
and wolves start howling.
Now conflicts will make the holes in the sky.
Your loneliness is more frightening,
than the dark words.
Unfeeling the light, the sounds.

You craved for the native touch,
which was not coming.
This moment you are me,
brushing against the psyche.
I am setting you free.
 

02-Jun-2012

More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1384     Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment THANK YOU FOR LETTING GO THE UNHAPPY READER AT THE END OF THE PIECE.

shyamal bagchee
04-Jun-2012 17:29 PM


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