Song At the End of the Road
Drinking from the portrait
of an alienated moon
in a self-taught remedy?
I was looking very
hurt in the muse,which
had failed the earth.
I wanted to say, my
sun was my sun,
broken, eclipse by eclipse.
Who was traitor to oneself ?
Sifting the leaves of a
raptor,to find the death
under the shade of
sundew, which blooms
when you become an insect.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2016
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