With gray wolves around, <br />he put the gun on the chin <br />and pulled the trigger. <br /> <br />The crowded nest and tainted gemones: <br />the double helix had the sex crumbling: <br />consensual hate. <br /> <br />Some beasts and hairy saints <br />were turning the world black, <br />sitting on marbled floor and talking of white moon. <br /> <br />Drifting faith in swollen eyes, watching <br />a burning train; <br />tomorrow I will travel again in pursuit of walking trees. <br /> <br />Proud legends like scorpions <br />climbing on your throat. Enamelled stings <br />ready to spin you blue. <br /> <br />Clams shut on the poor pink, <br />honeycomb becomes a trap.<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stray-fall/
