Thursday, November 3, 2005

Doubts of the soul

Summer slit into the mind, effervescent with heat,
Like a bubbling marsh, smelling of dead carcasses,
Mundane but surreal, petrified and paralysed,
Must time ask permission, to halt and move on...

This poem is a part of the collection in my book “Across the wall of my mind”

No comments:

Post a Comment