Theme: Life


Stay away from the main road
Subhumans are coming.
Face of black spiders,
long arms creeping, hopping.
The green blood and burning sticks;
gateway to moon sun decides to vanish.

Confronting the flesh makes you clenched snake,
lymphocytes start crowding, death was drawing near.
A fawn wanders without mother pink eyes,
trotting on grass,
syndicated trackers are circling.

End or means?
What you choose, will decide the future of man.
Let the flame become nameless.
A cupped beak and hairy thighs climb on the rock
to squander the seeds.

Clouds are gathering at distance
I may not wait for the rain.
I am going to swallow the pill.


More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1363     Comments: 0

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