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Poems :  Crash-Landing
Tags: Life  
 
The space in between―
the mayhem and spiritual hour;
was not much, but a spitting image,
of swapping with sun bites― was
evident without remorse.

The ice storm was raging.
Blueberries hang from your
eyes, to bluff me. I draw the curtain
and lit the fire to bring in―
the bride of vengeance.

A charitable act, to clear
the needles from the doll: No black
magic will work now. I am clean
and pure, will not cut a
slice of breast, for the red milk.



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2016/8/13 4:31:36
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Recents
A Sacrifice
Pummelled
In Darkness
Crazy Thoughts
Singing In Dark
Random
RETALIATION
UNFREEZING
EXPLOSION
BLOOD WAS ON SHEET
I V/S WE
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