Your Waking Head by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
Your Waking Head
by Satish Verma
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  Your impressionist, 
rift, comes through 
uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake 

was shedding the skin. 
Not walking, 
flying like a rage 
discharging the burns 
in the river of blood. 

I shudder, 
in the cleft of a grain. 
Hymns were hovering over the book. 

One by one 
the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of 
unvoiced grief of earth. 
A thin faith crumbles 
unfinding the lost shroud 
of a messiah.
Share This:
June 27, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 1150      Comments: 0




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