Candle by candle
you burn your dreams
unflaying the blue veins.
That makes you still beautiful
hanging in sky.
On the dead land your feet
will not touch the pond. Stumbling
I bring botanica to cover
your innocent faults
for telling the truth.
That makes me feel guilty.
I pretend to be not what I am.
This is the time when I start
hitting the road, missing the
scandalous moon who will -
kiss me hard when I was alone.
Just a fleeting pain. I ask you
to become a tree, so that I
can sit under your shade
and write a poem.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (DREAM LANDING by Satish Verma )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1644 - 1694)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1612 – 16 September 1672)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(c. 600 BCE)
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