Saturday, April 24, 2010


taking off those corase cloaks

underneath the sun bare bodies flock

hanging from a string of words

the verse bleeds, the rythm chokes

no sky no earth no clouds to see

clinging to a piece of rock

no open sea no stream no lake

tantalising, my tears mock

bereft of blood how do i write

my pen "Mirage" is a dired up stock.

1 comment:

Adee said...


concentric spirals

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