Puzzled Poem by Satish Verma
Puzzled
Building your space,
you were dying daily
invading the acoustics.
How the continence
was going to help-
living with scars of explosions?
Mutating into a full-fledged
saintliners, an inner conflict
becomes a profile.
Crawling to a stone
a crayon draws a cell
without incendiary rhetoric?
Decoding an icon
becomes a daily ritual. From
where will come the write?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/19/2024 2:19:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
