The fears, the dances, the exotica.
Waterlogged hope
malakpetmasala | 26 September, 2005 08:50
Anger, like a red paint
spilled over
fields ever-green,
of happy talk.
Broken, into dark smooth
curves of charcoal trails
of tears of sadness
in the farmers eyes
by thunderstorms
before the harvest hour.
spilled over
fields ever-green,
of happy talk.
Broken, into dark smooth
curves of charcoal trails
of tears of sadness
in the farmers eyes
by thunderstorms
before the harvest hour.
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1[No Subject]
Lizardking | 27/09/2005, 06:31
Akhil, aka GOD II: pretty hard to fill my stomach with poetry, my friend.
[No Subject]
Nish | 04/10/2005, 03:55
As always i dont kno wht ur on about....hows doin??
Re: Waterlogged hope
guest | 19/09/2011, 12:42
good stuff
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[No Subject]
God II | 26/09/2005, 19:35
stop killing the rats!!! become a poet oh chipkalion ke badshah :)