Without asking any
questions, you had turned
your life around and lived
on your terms, like
a curate.
Hold your breath.
Hear the truth. A death leap will
bring the peril. I was
going to engage the sanctioned
terror.
It piles up. The crumpled
moon. I will dig up
the ancient light from the
porous heart of a
dying saint.
The missing links are
appearing. You must live
to understand the talent's waste in
dark moments of a
fractured sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such an interesting poem, Satish....10++++