Great Withdrawl Poem by Satish Verma
Great Withdrawl
The urgency to bite the bullet
was uncalled for.
I could wait for eternity.
From night to night
a candle burns to understand
the repentance of a fakir.
Self-denial, you would say
was an act of renegade,
who deserted the throne.
The title of the book
misleads. Touch me inside
the pages. You will find blankness.
Read my hands. Full of―
blisters, after digging out the
truth from my failures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:10:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
