Searching Peace Poem by Satish Verma

Searching Peace



Unravished the
black moon was down
but not out.

I am being watched.
How the poem
prints itself on heart.

Curled up with
flower thoughts, staring
aimlessly in black void.

Wanted a brutally
honest truth, moon struck
but ready to give blond.

Who was desireless
being a saint. Paradox
always wins.

Thursday, September 12, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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