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Poems :  WHERE HE WAS
Tags: Life  
 
Meditation was futile.
He turned his back
from the green prayers.
The state had made a mockery of his love.

The words were not clear
written on the periphery of pain.
He fathered
dust to dust, his light
folded his trembling hands,
lying on jaundiced bed.
Syntax was rising.

He stood alone amidst landmines
malice for none, beast and history.
The stones were falling from sky.
The punished was partaking the blows,
where he was
others were absent.

Satish Verma



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2012/10/23 9:40:02
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Recents
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Beginning Of Voyage
It Happened Once
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Random
For Whom The Sky Weeps
Destructiveness
I Will Write A Poem
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ENORMOUS GUILT
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