Time Was Bleeding Poem by Satish Verma
Time Was Bleeding
Let the commerce begin
in moral crimes.
You had been selling the death, daily.
The lichens,
had invaded the tongues.
Speech was blurred and words were gray.
Someone comes knocking
at the door in night. When I
opened, it was moon.
The potter will not fail you
once, writes a blood poem
for the drifters.
In the beginning there
was turbulence in the sea.
Now the boat sails on fins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 11:45:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
