A Nightmare Poem by Satish Verma
A Nightmare
The system aborts.
(Multiple organs failure)
A deviant art
of dying pompously.
I wish, I was on a ─
moving floor, sailing
without a walk, looking at
the camouflaged ceiling.
The shrill voice of a whistle─
blower, mimics an opera.
I will snatch the words,
raw, from your lips.
It was here, in absence.
Your poesy, matter-of-factly.
Can you raise your voice
against the fall of the thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 1:29:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
