Some Thinking Space Poem by Satish Verma
Some Thinking Space
Asking for privacy, a
green snake becomes deviant,
and turns lunatic.
Lunacy demands innovation―
like atavism, returning
to primitiveness.
The fear becomes
your enemy. Instinct develops
to kill, to slay.
Again a beheading, you
wash your hands
with the blood of a god.
And dedicate your
life to a goddess of bodypiercing
crime, soaring high.
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/6/2024 1:17:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
