PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

To catch himself 
he jumped into fishpond 
becoming opaque 
between silk and lethal crotch. 
Milk of silence started flowing 
from earth’s breast. 

His name was a flower 
who was a blind witness 
of the love- 
for a moon 
which plunged into a lake without a bottom. 

Pain is spilled since then 
on the charred lips. 
Marigold– 
waits for the sun 
to rise only once. 

All the empty hands 
carry one eye 
of the seeds, 
to sprout in jungle of smiles.