27 june 2013
DARK LANGUAGE
Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.
There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat's milk.
My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.
The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.
Once again a century weeps!
Satish Verma
29 august 2025
wiesiek
29 august 2025
Jaga
29 august 2025
ajw
29 august 2025
ajw
28 august 2025
absynt
27 august 2025
wiesiek
27 august 2025
absynt
25 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
absynt