Count Down Poem by Satish Verma
Count Down
Everlasting―
revelation. As if
a vampire was made up
of stars.
The spooking
tilts. I remake
myself as one of the
last voices.
This street goes
nowhere.You must
search yourself
to find your cessation.
Clock over
clock. Time does not
move without a
murder daily.
The democracy
lives. Somebody
laughs behind
the bars.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/25/2024 4:41:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
