A Life's Worth Poem by Satish Verma
A Life's Worth
The brown dust―
floats, while reading
poetry.
It was my first―
love with the dancing words
in the jungle of departures.
The genocide of―
reliefs. I erect a shrine
for the slaughter of unknown.
Innocently, I utter―
your name in dark, that
lights up the aubade.
Strange things happen.
I stand where the roads don't cross
parting the emptiness.
The deadpan. Another city falls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/10/2024 11:02:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
