Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Turning Gray
You wanted to understand
the tenor of wet, heavy lids ―
that had emigrated from
deep oceanic eyes.
You believed―it will go on
for ever. Roused in peace.
I will listen to the voice of river
lapping at the shores of pain.
Cocoon was lying still, will
not open to us. I was ready
to receive the death at door.
But it was a stripteaser.
The lovers will meet in the
wilderness, ride the lioness
and black berries will go to
moon for the payment of wages.
poem
by
Satish Verma
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black