28 July, 2014

MYSTERIOUS

Grip loosening;
the lesser evil─

will liberate you─
from the nights terror.

The moon bleeds,
in your bed.

A raw wound─
unblinks in pain.

No words will speak
for the fallen icon.

The death has extracted
its price.

Black milk exudes
from the round breasts.

Sun was rising.


Satish Verma

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