Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
Talking to Morpheus
when moon was asleep.

I was not guilty of
waking you up.

In splinters, the man
goes deaf and dumb.

A violin was thrown
on the track to stop the music.

Death becomes a finger,
points at you.

The rodes become blind.
There was no D-Day for exit.
Written by
Satsih Verma
Please log in to view and add comments on poems