Blade Of Temper Poem by Satish Verma

Blade Of Temper

Rating: 5.0


That appears my last
race, though sun refuses to set.
Ablaze steals the moment.

*

It comes apart;
the surrogacy of imperfect―
seeds of love and hate.

*

Dry leaves of a tree
will not carry the message of
a beautiful lake.

Saturday, August 18, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bernard F. Asuncion 18 August 2018

Satish, such a stupendous poem...10+++

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