Theme: Life

Falling Bricks

From the blank book can I 
lift some questions for the lofty hopes 
when I lost myself near the home? 

The fear was darting inside the white sores. 
Keys were lost for the answers 
and truth fell castrated. 

The magic was fading from the cusps 
of designs, unconceived thoughts were 
seeking proportionate punishments. 

Congeniality drifted from the 
architect of hominid species. A nameless 
storm plays havoc. Humble peaks bow 

before the unmeasured meteors. You 
can shut the orphanage now; no 
bombs are bound for the wet crypts. 

01-Jan-2011

More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1433     Comments: 0


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