like ether, permeating all space
mesmerizing,
he walked away, head of his enemy
in his hand,
like a trophy?
frighteningly orangish
a decapitated body shudders.
The holy war
demands its price of a joke.
The face of red and blue.
A terrible reminder of a snaky past
that kills the puppets. The hands
dance in air.
The irrepairable, pink wounds
bleed, sweat smoke
of death?
SATISH VERMA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem