Theme: Life

Oblivion

A cutaneous drip. 
The young moon drinks the dew 
unbuttoning a rose. 

A fierce wind rubs 
against the golden triangle 
to invite a violet sting. 

Eyes armed with green thumbs 
go for a swim in rage. 
The lake unloosens a blood moon. 

No incense will rise 
from the tomb of a lover, 
unless he dies with a style. 

Crossing the gray lines, 
I will not take your lips; 
paralyzing the silver tongs.

04-Mar-2013

More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1398     Comments: 0


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