A Long Road Poem by Satish Verma
A Long Road
Nothing to think for,
at this moment. Faceless fears―
like pine needles,
prick the toes in walk.
You cannot―
collect the white roses
in blue rains.
You remember precisely, a toothless―
poised tiger. The prey
tied to a pole gives a
long whimper, before being mauled.
The game continues. You
cannot do anything. Violence was
real, the pen becomes the
weapon.
You start drawing vultures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 8:07:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The fire began as a single tongue. Of a small animal, or maybe a newborn. The puppy you were given for your third birthday. Even at so young an age you were bigger than the beast. The baby beast. Before it grew and could cover the land in leaps and bounds.