Sending My Hymns Poem by Satish Verma
Sending My Hymns
Make my path,
my dust. I want to leave
my bloody footprints.
Half-moonblind I
was collecting the tears of moon.
Dewdrops hang from my eyes.
Now where we go to
get our wounds healed up?
God was always sleeping?
Friday, March 6, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 8:29:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
