The Wound Poem by Ramakrushna Sahu
The Wound
Yes, a wound is there
In the middle of the heart's delight
Like the face of a sleeping volcano
Yes, a wound is there
Dry and asleep
You can touch the wound
But with the touch of your finger
All petals of heart will open
The eyes will be cleaned with tears
Don't open the wound,
With the smell of death
Blood ooze out,
Take care of it
With soothing touch of flowers
Let again and again
The volcano come out of it's sleep
Take care of the floewring heart
Till the lava turns into
The cold water of a brook.
smell of death, I like it, it is everywhere. good one, let me welcome you here..
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4/25/2024 4:15:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Let again and again The volcano come out of it's sleep Take care of the floewring heart Till the lava turns into The cold water of a brook. till the lave becomes cool like a brook.... thank u very much for this poem. tony