Fire Game Poem by Satish Verma
Fire Game
An ocean floods
your eyes. Flares the wound
of words. There was no friend.
Across the borders,
nameless horses run to win
the race. There were no masters.
Let it go. The time,
I forget myself and start
searching the other self.
Will you walk
with me in snow? To locate
the buried hand of the butcher?
Tonight I will
become a priest to write
on the walls of love flame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 3:08:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You can be a priest to write beautiful love poem of course. An interesting emotional poem is brilliantly penned.10