Hope is incarcerated
As a date in the calendar
Celebrating every day
As an event of depleted emotional relations
Sky resembles an embryo of misdeeds
Clouds float like
Guillotine of green soil
Sunflowers in the farms
Cover their faces
With a suicidal note of the sons of soil
Thoughts are rusted nails in the coffin
Carved words on the grave stone
Are rituals of last rain drops
Which fill the thirst of parched souls
Of ceremonial visitors
(20-7-14)

Satya Srinivas

Copyright © Satya Srinivas

 

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Also at: http://wwwpatra-poems.blogspot.in/2014/07/deferred-monsoon_23.html

Photo Credit:

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