Glass Cutting


When the cut glass bleeds,
you cannot decide
for yourself, what was the truth of―
occultation?

Fleeing from dark
home of erudition,
trapped in rubble of karma
you want to forget the
pride of sin.

How would you know that
somebody loves you
so intensly that his
water mark does not fade?

Like a titan, a priest
holds you in palm, to protect
you from vicious eyes,
before saying the prayer.

The sun wants to take
a refuge.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem



This Poems Story

Glass Cutting