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Poems :  Translating Death
Tags: Life  
 
Dancing on the trembling
flames, virtually
remaining calm, I was just
watching your hands- the palms, and
only the stance of pointing fingers.

I mimic the death
in a cage, burned alive-
or beheaded by a black night
under the moon. One digit added
to the depth of an ocean,
which has no shores.

One day, you will forget
me, walk away from the hand-written
beautiful calligraphy, describing the agony
of man, who would not drop
his pen, even, tyranny tearing away
his limbs.



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2019/5/4 3:22:59
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Recents
Coding An Ocean
The Cameo
Speaking Of Angst
In Nostalgia
Infinite Loss
Random
Do You See?
Disconnection
THE STINK
CHASTE WORDS
EMPATHY
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