Satish Verma Poet ABC

On the Edge

I recognized the vitriol.
There was blood on your hands.
The invisible was burning in dark.

This was the black moon 
and this was the alienation.
An animal climbs on your shoulders.

It goes on and on.
Was it the night to undress 
and show your wounds to dreams ?

The lake has left the shores -
and  flesh eats grass
in absence of cold truth.

I meet the moans of quaking
stars .petals know the music 
of death in fragrance.


Satish Verma

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Carol Sunshine Brown July 11, 2012 at 11:52 AM It was such a pleasure to read your poetry today Satish. I hope to be able in the next few weeks to find the time and energy to read and comment. May you walk through the inspirational garden that you may continue to write and share your poetry with us. Love, Carol