satishverma

Unbendingly

Category: /General/
(932 views)
Like
0
You went tounveil your own
statue, before being shot―
dead, for telling the fiction.

Day was stranger than
night. You can discern
the oblique faces.

Handcuffed, you pick up
the pen, to rewrite the name
of omniabsent divine.

Trivial rise of surface
temperature will melt
the snow-clad breasts.

A clove-scented pink―
in the hands of a butcher
does not bring a smile.

Favorite Favorite  Comment Comment  Share Share

Close

Copy Link and Share



Report an item by sharing it with support.
© individual authors and creators. Create, Share and Profit at etastic.com.

Add a Comment

Enter your comment and submit

© Copyright etastic and individual authors. All Rights Reserved.

Edit Comment

Edit your comment and submit

© Copyright etastic and individual authors. All Rights Reserved.