THE SIEGE

Dual fall of the brass. 
From the bine, 
from the bliss of flower strength. 
An apparition 
of infiniteness of agony. 
Becoming one with failures. 

It tends to stay 
and enters the forbidden city 
of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring 
to remain poor of any treasure. 
The mysterious pain 
a trap cannot catch. 

Oh, pass on a cloud 
my eyes want to rain.

Satish Verma