Crumbling Down Poem by Satish Verma
Crumbling Down
Can you understand
the agony of a titan, which
cannot afford to show its fall?
Missing the defeat―
no one was victorious.
Battle cry was a phantom.
The questions, that were
fluttering in a storm―
had become the sufi fakirs.
It was a dirty stricture.
The colors had stopped flowing.
Even the death has lost its terror.
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 7:53:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
