Poezja

And, it tore through dumb claim;
the fakes had commingled with
the truth. Nowhere my soul
found peace.

One by one shadows were losing
their skeletons. The tarnished face
was forced to recant its nose
and shrank into hole.

Blood grievously turned grey
and skin tanned blue in fierce withdrawl.

He tracked naked in squall
of abuse leaving the eyes for blind rubbers
and bald wolves.Legs tweet, the child
is coming back home.



Satish Verma