wake the flesh from the trappings
wake the flesh from the trappings of the divine
Tag: poem
winter crow and kingfisher never seeing eye to eye
still loading state controlled media kingfisher laughs
a grim tale of storm clouds through the painted glass
call it a feeling the movement of clouds in our bones
the rain haunts us every waking moment
gods shift uneasily in their seats the eight-eyed visitor
night sky the lightning tree that grows and dies in a heartbeat
rainfall the damp earth alive with rot
before night the last bastion of light breathes its last
elancharan gunasekaran 