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Theme: Life Share This Page
Washed-Out
by Satish Verma
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Slashing the surging monarchy
of celibates
stoking the fire of wounds,

the turret locks on to a target
taking off the gloves.
The mountain was rising.

A sheet of the floating ice
disturbs the ecology of heart.
I place my candle in the storm.

The missiles had failed.
Only the words were flying from
bare lips for entreaties.

Oversexed like a shoe-flower
O, mad enemy
I am pouring out the red sea.

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November 10, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
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