Trailblazer
Prepare the bed
of the liquid art,
where the ice will kiss the fire.
Can you climb on the flames
to know the truth
of a molten lava?
Who killed the desire
to enter the frozen god
of revenge?
Alas, I will go back
to the wounded pride.
I will not sell my home of curse.
The innocent breast
of the moon,
has kindled the blaze again.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
