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Author Name: Freesatishverma 1 Comments
Date Added: September 29, 2012 23:09:57 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Type: Unspecified
Category: Inspirational Add To Favorites | Text Only
A fragile pistillum sways to conceal
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the
debris were popping up daily. There
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising
from the white paper.

A sense of lost is weaponized. There is
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds
were enduring the sun.A howitzer fires at moon.
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside
the mortgage of life.

Satish Verma
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Comment By: Freee. Gene Myers on September 30, 2012 09:48:39 AM Report
And such are the spoils of war.  Even in its end, the pain never stops.  Always a winner, always a loser.  Maybe the wars would stop if everyone broke even.  All dead  ... no war.  Certainly .... no winners.  They only breed more wars.


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