satishverma
Noesis
Category: /General/
(1070 views)
0
A near cult glows/ on faces― 
for harvesting peace,
saluting each other, without flame.
I have come so far
though you did not want the winds to move.
A new theme was
developing. The first wicket has fallen.
The collective suicide
will follow.
Invoking the sun, you stay in shadows,
without qualms to hear
the swish of swords.
The phenomenalist,
strides confidingly to read your mind.
Heart cries―
Uncontrollably.
Favorite Favorite Comment Comment Share Share
Report an item by sharing it with support.
© individual authors and creators. Create, Share and Profit at etastic.com.