What Was Not Said

Satish Verma

The cuckoo gives 
a final call. 
Moon was rising. 

Trivialities of the earth 
be aside.My dream 
is going to burst. 

Golden keys in a ring, 
hang down from your neck. 
I am imprisoned again. 

Into some intimate 
moments, I will inject some 
tears.My time has come. 

Where the road 
ends, a tall tree will wait 
for your coronation.