Radhamani Sarma


A Deadwood I Was


I was a dead wood
drifting along the spooky path
of maze and intrigues,
the scary foam of waves surge
a whirl of surreal in me,
tossing me up and down,
the mariner’s compass,
holds a dumb charade
at the moment of travesty,
Your Advent is The
Enlightenment of Beacon.
Halo glows ever.

Submitted: Wednesday, November 06, 2013
Edited: Thursday, November 07, 2013

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  • Valsa George (11/7/2013 12:17:00 AM)

    From aimless drifting, you are given direction and destination! Enjoyed this write and welcome to poem hunter! ! (Report) Reply

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