Verities
The moon was moving
stealthily in wilderness.
Time was running out
tracing the shape.
I let her go, the
comely thing, putting on
hold, the teetering
poem.
Running faster than light, the
words catch you in midstream.
A warlord wants to put on
a helmet in night.
It was raining sparks and
cinders. You walk along the
redoubts, obliterating
simmering footsteps.
I am not a loser
dancing in the pit of snakes.
Bring the sweetness of venom.
I am alive.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
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