Satish Verma Poems

A Gothic touch has come
in my verse. I am afraid of myself.
Marrow was ready to give the blood.
...

It was a dry run to die.
Inequality between sun and moon
always inspires to save the earth.
...

The night bird was in
shackles. It was grace to talk nothing.
Were you ready for the final wish?
...

Its thorns hurt, I still
love the rose, remaining unhappy.
No repeal. Life illuminates.
...

To be or not to be ready,
to outreach my ethnic pain? To be
absent, when I sit to think about you?
...

What you have learnt?
It was not my swan song. My poem
has not reached the sun-
...

Sometimes you overthink
in the evening. The night has the
receding line of purple love.
...

Nature calls agenda.
It pulls my heartstrings walking in
moonless night to find fireflies.
...

Who was the predator?
A moon or the sun in the dark? Life demands
full justice for a fallen tear from the brown eye.
...

This was inhuman.
I was asked to become human. Why
I should not write biographical poems?
...