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In Anguish
Folder:
Satish Verma Taking me to neverland
you turned me on.
The gypsy moon had smiled.
Disenchanted, the savage
handshake dropped the
lead. My goblet remained
full of black holes.
A cloud will cross the
line. Unrepentant my poems
would lie on hot rocks for baking.
Never made it. The
two small feet home. Still
searching the address of scream.
Ah, the snaky
embrace of the time. It
won't let me go near the lake.
Annihilation. All the
words are reduced to nothing.
Trying to learn the sign language.
