autumn before dawn the quiet reeks of violence
Tag: monostich
break the cycle when the last kid drops the gun for a book
ceasefire when the last soul has let go of vengeance and hate
the storm outside uploading self to the darkest cloud
in bed dreaming of quiet tones of grey
the autumn breeze like life a fleeting memory
autumn noon the picture perfect mynah poses framed by leaves
after the rain after thunderclouds crows chase
dusk the kingfisher’s cry rips through the bitter rain
tungsten
wrote this for a competition, didn’t make the cut though
read and enjoy!
i like, how tungsten sounds
on my tongue
the leathery rasp- of lips
as the tip ignites against teeth
you get three, she said
strike one: my skin is on fire
strike two: the world is on fire
i never made it to three
bodies red, convulse and collapse
my. turn. now. i said…
elancharan gunasekaran 