4 december 2021

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

Leukosma

A dynamic kill,
when you start crystal―
gazing.

Were you a participant
of an organized
rape of the planet?

Your roots drop,
as you gamble with the
change of coins. It would
become a stillbirth,
of a seaisle.

Telling lies has become
a lucrative job.
Are you going to buy immortality,
in the bazaar of bazookas?

The blast cells were
rising. There was intense
pain in my thighs. Blood
was turning white.

Contact with us



Report this item


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please Register