The Melting


Not moving, the words
had gone into inertia. The space was shrinking.
Only restlessness was there in buoyancy
ready to distort the sound of depth.

I am expanding in propriety,
in meaning.
Pure burning on flame of truth,
like a moth.

Listen to the guilt,
the denial to the stasis of soul.
The loneliness brings the touch
of unlimited falls.

Submitted by Satish Verma.

Category: Life Poems | No comments | Tags:
DownUp +24

Leave a comment