In Fog Poem by Satish Verma
In Fog
Cannot see through,
when you
take different avtars.
Deeply quiet, I want
to be defeated
in your hands,
like a small Buddha.
Who walks in my poems
when the god fails?
When the blueprint
appears on the moon, I empty
my glass of Aconite.
The snake sleeps for
my self-esteem.
Here and there,
I find you in every rhyme.
After the dawn
whispers would die.
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 9:21:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
