Holy Wings by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
Holy Wings
by Satish Verma
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The twisted moon
moved horizontally,
plunged in cleavage
of dark trees
eating the stars.

Aloneness; midnight dream,
faces the wall of nails.
Scratches on the flesh
blood oozing.
The benign end.

Put off the lights,
it helps to think clearly.
Drape the mercy of night.
Snake was hissing, may strike.
A cramp will kill the joy.

The fish will be welded
to a candle.
 

Share This:
August 19, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 1123      Comments: 0




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