PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In last journey he wanted to have 
a free run without rumors 
of reconciliation. 

From years back he watched – 
friends, disappeared one by one. He 
became his own enemy. The ravines 

were waiting for the sacrificial throw 
of a bound martyr. 
Between being and action 

he was ready for the kiss of death – 
from a ferocious opponent, 
whose chest spread like a hood of cobra – 

ready to strike. His ghost will walk now 
on the clouds, days in, days out, 
to read the black lips of blissful time.