The Road
Dark stripe night-like silvery shadow,
Bottom of an earthen pot of a kind,
Hallowed sepia-eyes of Black Dahlia in her dying glow
Expressway etched intaglio,
Through miles of my crazy driving mind,
It is dawn,
Under a cloud, peeps the sun,
While morning dew is still fresh,
On the leafy flesh,
In front lies my life,
The sesame yawning road doses starving,
It is the day of my harvest moon
And i must be home,
To reap the corn of lonely broken hearted living,
Embarking on a journey to build my hope,
On the beyond stubbles of life,
By loosely trailing on so labyrinthine along a
strange rope,
Where will this romance
With the Anaconda leads?
Maybe destined like the road to somewhere leads,
When will this sojouner comes to the remembrance
And comes to the crossroads,
Of life's all unending trods?
Helplessly! my days keep throwing up the sponge,
When will i plunge
Into the mirage ocean,
Of oblivion?
This road leads
To the sleepy lull,
This road leads
To the seraphic soul,
Over the lily covered Hilly
Down the unbeknownst far fir forested valley,
It goes on eternally.
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.
