Punctuality Poem by Satish Verma
Punctuality
Rating: ★5.0
The cult moves in
circle. Stargazing
starts. You lie buried in
wet retreat. Eyes protruding
The veil sends a sweet death.
The death. Only you would
know, what was the conversation
between the repentant
and priest.
Superfluous. To beautify
the grimace. The lips―
always cheat.
A black cloud devours the moon.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/9/2024 6:10:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
