Descending Peace Poem by Satish Verma

Descending Peace



After a hard day
a game-changing starts,
igniting the night.

You are buried
in stitches. The wounds
are devoid of blood.

Will you split the─
silence along the words?
There was no awareness now.

A persona
becomes a revolution. The streets
are painted red.

The monument
drifts. You wash the landscape
with moonlight.

Saturday, May 10, 2014
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