Myths Of CenturiesA Poem by Satish VermaMyths Of Centuries
Words would wear the blood caps.
In tyranny of the full moon, the wound becomes bigger. Mask after mask, you will never find the real face. The cannibalism makes you sick. I survived the branding. O god, I will never shame you. The virginity was at stake in the hands of angels. You receive the bullet, when glowers were thrown. Violence has a price. Brick by brick you make the temple again. © 2024 Satish Verma |
StatsAuthor
|