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prabhu-iyerPoems
In the alleyway of sorcerers and tricksters One step back, ten deepward away, away, from sun and lime, forms, thickened smoke, gone all the familiar, but fear an industrial hammer beating to a pneumatic heart pulverized, powdered glass Now lining the string to my kite soaring, one among the shapes dotting the kaleidoscope Retreat!, I can cut. bangles, once they were I gave you Hooded, darkened, enveloped in hushed hymns and chimed mutterances come hands held out of cloaks that I accept for friendship cold, as the heartless should be erased, gone among the shadows, lost a young soul tottering at the edge of a cliff tremor that ripped the heartland blocks of stone, elevated icons of hope and love lining the pathway here disfigured so beyond repair even moonlight cannot restore once a thinker, a poet, a scholar where peddle the whispered offerings of an underworld
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
underworld
In the alleyway of sorcerers and tricksters One step back, ten deepward away, away, from sun and lime, forms, thickened smoke, gone all the familiar, but fear an industrial hammer beating to a pneumatic heart pulverized, powdered glass Now lining the string to my kite soaring, one among the shapes dotting the kaleidoscope Retreat!, I can cut. bangles, once they were I gave you Hooded, darkened, enveloped in hushed hymns and chimed mutterances come hands held out of cloaks that I accept for friendship cold, as the heartless should be erased, gone among the shadows, lost a young soul tottering at the edge of a cliff tremor that ripped the heartland blocks of stone, elevated icons of hope and love lining the pathway here disfigured so beyond repair even moonlight cannot restore once a thinker, a poet, a scholar where peddle the whispered offerings of an underworld
prabhu-iyer
Written by
prabhu-iyer
Indian
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
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