Coming Back To Alma Mater Poem by Satish Verma
Coming Back To Alma Mater
Your voice has dimmed.
I cannot catch your
beautiful profile.
Wanted to see you,
where you were not present.
O god! who was running
this weird world?
Prepare for a
heat stroke in moonlight.
Naked as a blank paper.
Can you print
the end of unending?
Do not want to call
seers. I will search myself
to know the meaning of
dying gracefully.
Were you ready to become
a silhouette?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:14:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
