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Poems :  NOT SINNED
Tags: Life  
 
Were very hot, trembling thighs
like in frying pan, you sizzled
looking around for ladders.

Then you crashed on the charged
net like a mosquito, exploding
in white flame- tip, tip-top.

Pungent smoke rises, of
smoldering flesh. I was afraid
of drums, the fierce sounds.

Your song has been left behind.
Stolen piece. Love has become a
terror asking for ransom.
Living fossil. Taking it all, you did't
deserve the garbage. The string
of wasted years.

Satish Verma



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2013/7/26 4:28:10
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