25 October, 2021

Compromised

Dying red leaves were
ready for a blitzkrieg. The spectre
of blood river returns suddenly.

The consistent failure
brings the dewy tears. Tell me--was it
writing on the threadbare body of pain.

Ah a dust song comes
from a comet's tail. A thunderstorm
has a hole. It is the eye of the grim reaper.

Satish Verma

No comments: