Your waking head

Your waking head

Your waking head

Your impressionist,

rift, comes through

uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake

was shedding the skin.

Not walking,

flying like a rage

discharging the burns

in the river of blood.

I shudder,

in the cleft of a grain.

Hymns were howering over the book.

One by one

the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of

unvoiced grief of earth.

A thin faith crumbles

unfinding the lost shroud

of a messiah.

Satish Verma

------------------------------------------------------

YOUR WAKING HEAD

Your impressionist,

rift, comes through

uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake

was shedding the skin.

Not walking,

flying like a rage

discharging the burns

in the river of blood.

I shudder,

in the cleft of a grain.

Hymns were howering over the book.

One by one

the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of

unvoiced grief of earth.

A thin faith crumbles

unfinding the lost shroud

of a messiah.

Satish Verma

------------------------------------------------------

YOUR WAKING HEAD

Your impressionist,

rift, comes through

uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake

was shedding the skin.

Not walking,

flying like a rage

discharging the burns

in the river of blood.

I shudder,

in the cleft of a grain.

Hymns were howering over the book.

One by one

the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of

unvoiced grief of earth.

A thin faith crumbles

unfinding the lost shroud

of a messiah.

Satish Verma

------------------------------------------------------

YOUR WAKING HEAD

Your impressionist,

rift, comes through

uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake

was shedding the skin.

Not walking,

flying like a rage

discharging the burns

in the river of blood.

I shudder,

in the cleft of a grain.

Hymns were howering over the book.

One by one

the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of

unvoiced grief of earth.

A thin faith crumbles

unfinding the lost shroud

of a messiah.

Satish Verma

------------------------------------------------------

YOUR WAKING HEAD

Your impressionist,

rift, comes through

uncontrolled hands of fear. The snake

was shedding the skin.

Not walking,

flying like a rage

discharging the burns

in the river of blood.

I shudder,

in the cleft of a grain.

Hymns were howering over the book.

One by one

the leaves fall, to unravel the secrets of

unvoiced grief of earth.

A thin faith crumbles

unfinding the lost shroud

of a messiah.

Satish Verma

------------------------------------------------------

POST COMMENT

The Binocular Harness Strap - Getting Set for the following Shot Burberry outlet possesses various tastes Burberry scarves is the most classic itme Burberry has created a classic feature E-MDs Wins Two "Best in KLAS" Awards The huge Burberry groups All of the Past is Fresh Once Again: Afro Wigs at Parties Just Tell Me What is Wrong Already! The Challenges of Birth Defect Diagnosis Tesla Magic Formula Critiques Whitening Magic formula Visiting Alaska's Stoney River Lodge March Madness betting - Second Tier Predictions Do I need to use warm saline water to wash nose?