Enough Poem by Satish Verma
Enough
A leached amputee
living with stumps of flawless
dying.
Round and round, blindfolded
moving in circle, drawn by rhyming
bells.
Perhaps you need to suffer
with the drunken race of
snipers.
I am in the silent valley of
barefoot secrets where moon waits to
die.
The poppies will buy the bullets,
a gift to unending kiss of
grief.
Tell every vulture on the tree,
there is endless arrival of
feasts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:25:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
WOW! Kind of scary with your symbolism of vultures though have said well and conceived well by me...Thanks for the fine read! ! ! 10+++