Wounded Doves Poem by Satish Verma
Wounded Doves
We will watch the
sunset in cahoots and
focus on pulsars.
You live for a critical
cause. Never to retreat.
Was it possible without
some happenings?
The words come and go,
not uttering any sound.
To live or to die for a genesis?
Blooded sky bids
sad farewell to humming―
birds. My half-brother
weeps silently.
Taking final call
of human chain, from the
foster god. I return to
my grass roots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/4/2024 9:00:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
high powered writing - Blooded sky bids sad farewell to humming― birds. My half-brother weeps silently. Taking final call of human chain, from the foster god. I return to my grass roots.