satishverma
You Cannot Touch the Fogs
Category: /General/
(87 views)
0
I have lived my poems.
The truth walks between knowledge
and existence. In split -second comes moon.
It filters the metaphysics
What pain I have, not asked for it.
The mud stream moves on to kill.
What my love was, to
do any sin. Make a red comet to
burn away my wax palace.
Favorite Favorite Comment Comment Share Share
Report an item by sharing it with support.
© individual authors and creators. Create, Share and Profit at etastic.com.