Do not stoke the desires tonight, <br />my moon is away on the cusp of doubts. <br />Count you must the needles in heart, of <br />ifs and buts? A fragile truce was anathema <br />to me. The nagging day lies ahead – <br /> <br />of my failing gifts. Living was a whispering <br />silence, no secrets had a spite for you. <br />A fine drizzle of thoughts fills the lungs, <br />mind cries for the space to arrange <br />the corpses of dreams. <br /> <br />The uncertainties take a heavy toll. <br />A new voice precedes a wet moon, <br />the sun was rising late today, living apart. <br /> <br /> <br />SATISH VERMA<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breathing-dust/
