Black Stones Poem by Satish Verma
Black Stones
Your color was changing.
Sometimes I wake up in
midnight to feel your breath.
Why does it happen?
Sustained Artemisia.
Deadly poison. I loved to know it.
My head aches, when I
think of my destiny.
The vision fails. You
collect the shards of crashed chandelier
from your eyes.
Agile thoughts restart
the song to drink moon.
Where were you?
Monday, May 18, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/18/2024 8:59:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
My head aches, when I think of my destiny...... outstanding conceptualization. A beautiful poem is amazingly shared. Thanks.