Speaking Ones Thought
Not able to sing-
you have become the song.
You will make me very poor
by giving charity.
It was a black dahlia, ready
to beset the moon in lunar eclipse.
And the word implant was not
appropriate. It has become toxic.
Downward you search the seeds
in dark. The spirits waiting in wings.
Death was the most beautiful thing
to happen on the stage before-
the play starts. I will invite
my paramour to light the lamp.
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.
