After The Assault Poem by Satish Verma
After The Assault
The hurt of a game.
Myth has played with the─
life of a song bird.
A dream becomes opaque.
You cannot find any─
image of blood.
A window shuts─
the moon. The rainbow will
grope for a sky.
And I must find
some excuse to live. The nascent
hope outleaps the black─
rain falling on eyes. Panic
grips poppies. They throw up the
color, the fresh dawn.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/9/2024 7:33:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
