Blue Castles Poem by Satish Verma
Blue Castles
Your lips go dry, when
body twirls to catch a kiss.
The sting ever asks.
Unshackled, you will
come to become prisoner
of a seething sun.
Visiting city of
orphanages, you cross the
high rise asylum.
Thursday, May 16, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/27/2024 8:39:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
