depressed mount of sun
and feeble supporting lines-
will i die unknown?
left rotting in the sand
and wind oozing foul smell?
i don't want the sun
to miss my light and blame
the night for writing
the fate with wintry fingers
licking the legs of scarecrow
they can't close their eyes
to the images i brew
for burying secrets
against a dusty mirror
against god's hidden errors
- R.K.Singh
they can't close their eyes to the images i brew for burying secrets against a dusty mirror against god's hidden errors. Beautiful poem with wonderful tiction. Enjoyed reading. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well crafted poem.. Thank you..
Thanks Souren for stopping by my latest poem.