Satish Verma

Gold Star - 15,037 Points (5-6-1935)

Vendetta - Poem by Satish Verma

Brown eyes:
little things―
I ask from you.

This is the holy land,
you can walk, without
offering anything.

I will not surrender
an alter ego
for a price.

The walls scoop
the shadows
for future skin.

A small pilgrimage
for the
dying god.

It hurts when
my lips will not touch
the flame.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 31, 2015



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