Landing Without Gears
In asci we stand like
spores in a floating pain
in trepidation of something
evil.
It was a lily pond.
The water brings a dead city
on lotus leaves. I will
become crazy for small deviations.
The body bags are full of
remains. You know everything
before hand, from alphabet
to full script.
In my own way I will
decipher the stream of
death’s language. A part
of your face floats nearby.
The uncollected legs were
searching the flame of sorrow
without digging a hole.
Satish Verma
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
