Fault Line - Poem by Satish Verma
The template had the fault,
I was buried alive.
Brick by brick they erected the cell
I could see only the reflection
of a moon at night
in my glass of water.
During the day sun peeped through the cracks,
was hurting and very disturbing,
forming a skull and crossed bones
on the walls.
I watched a piece of sky
as a hub of pallisades.
I planted a word in that hole.
After one seed, there were many
echoes. Starting in the distant hills.
I was rising in red fog.
Comments about Fault Line 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
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You