Theme: Life


when I come back
clad in wounded memories,
one seed deep
the pod would lie in the forest of hands,
I will wake you up in between
the kisses of moon.

The hawthorn lamps –
let me light the last unlit
of empty night, for a farewell
to a black rose, who had collected
the unpraised thorns.

The fugitive wind shuts the smart tears.


More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1424     Comments: 0

Name *
Email ID
Comment *
Verification Code*

Can't read? Reload

Please fill the above code for verification.