Dark Performance - Poem by Satish Verma
An empty indulgence,
tortures the deep imagination
the immutable name of unuttered grief.
Gradually the fear of unknown,
takes hold of the lungs, spleen.
We don’t put the,
solitude for soul-search.
I am hearing myself now.
The fake overtakes the acuity.
Death looks the sacrilege from a distance.
The saffron clouds create
the opacity in transparent green.
Once we were all colorless,
full of dirt now; storing
our memories in empty hearts.
The vigil was over,
rains scattered the seeds.
The hours and days were littered
with bruised limbs of shaken faith.
No body held the banner.
The dark performance of believers
was sheared off by sharp lights.
Comments about Dark Performance by Satish Verma
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You