Recalcitrance

From a homemade
golden pen you went on
exploring,
the young erotica.
It was a moment of
the funeral, plodding
through the extinct memories
of misadventures.
Time had stood still
on the sea of faces.
The great wall of frozen
dreams brings a chill
in blazing sun of enigma.

A bridge becomes a
derived fossil!

Satish Verma