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Vendetta
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Satish Verma Brown eyes:
little things―
I ask from you.
This is the holy land,
you can walk, without
offering anything.
I will not surrender
an alter ego
for a price.
The walls scoop
the shadows
for future skin.
A small pilgrimage
for the
dying god.
It hurts when
my lips will not touch
the flame.
the pain is equivalent to the
the pain is equivalent to the idolatry which always being a substitute is filled with more convenient one. Interesting write nice ideas making a complex mix of imagery. Hugss
Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS
"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."