Unexisting
A fugitive moon
appeared, after the blaze of the sun,
in a frozen standoff,
died.
My room was dappled
with pale moonbeams shadows,
nestled on the?
blue walls.
There was a constant drumbeat
coming nearer. He wanted
to quit. You cannot change
the legacy of dark rooms.
A manhunt must start
for the thief who stole away
all the voices of
a departed soul.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2016
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