The Vacant Frame by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
The Vacant Frame
by Satish Verma
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  Self-immolating silence softens the pain, an art of solitude.
Evening drifts to come closer to moon.
Night is summer washed.
Small stars are trembling on blue waves.

The night climbs down from the brown hill.
Agony of life filters in your eyes.
Unspoiled tears leave a trail of liberation.
Sorrow was insipid in your dark book.

Possessing a blue surge, a nothingness bloomed into a smile.
Space fills the dreams, coarse picture and empty memories.
The vacant frame holds only the waiting.
Centre was gone.
The boundaries have captured the colorless fragments of thought, dry bones.


 
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February 14, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 456      Comments: 0




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