Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

PEBBLES IN THE POND


A crooked slanting moon
shifts the eye
comes under the chaste tree
and washes the tainted
victory.

Wolves start howling
at the tomb of unknown martyr,
man-eaters recoil
on the sugar island
and talk about destinies,

A mourning crowd walks
repudiating the death;
one day nuances of an ode
will thaw the delta
in disbelief.

The Delphic attitude
of a translucent murder
narrates the wisdom of sadness
which cannot propel the
blood stained light.

Submitted: Tuesday, August 04, 2009
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  • Catrina Heart (8/4/2009 1:25:00 AM)

    profound composition which made me reread the whole piece...Great poetic figurative language used....10/10 (Report) Reply

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