Wound Poem by prabhakar bhatlekar

Let the wound spurt
fountain of blood.
Let the blood explode blossom
of unseenflowers.
Let the shining sword of horizon
cut across the longing mind.
The hypnotizing wild wind
steel the song
of the bleeding heart
from the existence
and left me live for nothingness.
Let the drumbeats of the mad drummer
shiver the soil beneath
the trembling feet.
Then I drag mu body to
the last hope left for me.
It's long back I lost
my name and lineage.
But there is hope
for my own search of
the identity....