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subject: THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE [print this page]

THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE, THE GLASS HOUSE

Not yet, the courage will wait

for the curtain to fall,

will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing

was the love of absence

the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image

in slow turn of thighs

lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born

pleads guilty,

whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal's feet

carry the burden of the straw,

words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight

my son, my god, my father:

I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

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

THE GLASS HOUSE

Not yet, the courage will wait

for the curtain to fall,

will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing

was the love of absence

the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image

in slow turn of thighs

lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born

pleads guilty,

whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal's feet

carry the burden of the straw,

words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight

my son, my god, my father:

I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

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

THE GLASS HOUSE

Not yet, the courage will wait

for the curtain to fall,

will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing

was the love of absence

the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image

in slow turn of thighs

lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born

pleads guilty,

whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal's feet

carry the burden of the straw,

words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight

my son, my god, my father:

I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

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

THE GLASS HOUSE

Not yet, the courage will wait

for the curtain to fall,

will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing

was the love of absence

the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image

in slow turn of thighs

lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born

pleads guilty,

whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal's feet

carry the burden of the straw,

words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight

my son, my god, my father:

I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

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

THE GLASS HOUSE

Not yet, the courage will wait

for the curtain to fall,

will then disappear in awakening;

the crucial thing

was the love of absence

the scythe of eclipsed moon.

Suspense hangs from the tall image

in slow turn of thighs

lips reach the galaxies:

the first cry of new born

pleads guilty,

whispers will never be the same.

My fault, the animal's feet

carry the burden of the straw,

words brought the grief.

In a triangular fight

my son, my god, my father:

I stand in the center!

Satish Verma

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

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