About March

"They were not meant to see and they did and they didn't understand... for when they will know every March is a race, they will catch up to my pace" - V.T.

It was March… remember?

Times when we had wings,

The meadows and dusk,

Leaves falling over our heads,

 

You and me together,

When we were miles apart,

Our bodies reincarnated

Over wireless webs of phantasma,

 

All along the breadth of horizon,

Our prayers slighted… by unkempt opportunities

Of Evil men and their sordid desires,

We never knew of fate,

 

She buried me inside her lap,

When tears became oblivious of its creator,

The plight of innocence was remorse,

And the rest of March kept marching away,

 

In the depth of night, far greater than my mind,

I admit to giving in, into being filthy,

Oh I did find... remorse!

Of wireless webs of agony

That sundered our wings to being who we are

 

The vile men, at least, true to themselves,

While I, the Devil, went with the flow

Without blinking,

Shhh… I’ll tell you what the devil does.

He likes to watch us make love in March…

Reviews

[Kruppz]

I enjoyed this read. I like how it flows.

[Coyote Poetry]

"Shhh… I’ll tell you what the devil does.
He likes to watch us make love in March…"
I like the flow of thoughts leading to the strong ending. No weakness in the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[.]

:: nice... pungent but in an infinitely poetic sort of way...

:: good to see something new in your virtual notebook... :)