Time burns slowly

I can taste the metallic taste of an
unsung song lodged in my throat
when the sourness of the stale words and verse
have sat long enough
out in the night

it carries the taste of the doom
the sadness mixed within
gives it a tart taste
like the curdled milk
left overnight

and I can taste the sea on my
broken and chapped lips
time sitting still between its cracks
waiting for eons to utter that golden word

which will rip and shred the silence in pieces
and I can feel the pain of those crushed wings of the butterfly
they leave the traces in your palm
/death and its existence/

the pain of the unsaid verses
as the knotted lilies in the womb
my bleary eyes gazes
from emptiness to nothing
and times leaves the soot on my soul
as it burns slowly
and marks my soul.

Megha Sood lives in New Jersey, USA. She is a contributing author/editor at GoDogGO, Candles Online, Free Verse Revolution, Whisper and the Roar and Poets Corner.

Her works have appeared in Visual Verse, Vita Brevis,521 magazine, KOAN (Paragon press), Fourth and Sycamore, Dime Show Review, and coming up Piker Press etc.

She won 1st prize in NAMI NJ Axelrod Mental Health Poetry contest. She blogs at