In Furnace Poem by Satish Verma
In Furnace
Like the nature of the herd,
I hold a burning candle as in belief
to create an ebony god.
The whistle blower beats
the drum and then commits suicide
by swallowing hemlock.
Socrates? Can we call him
to ignite the sparks in young songs
for the pain of a burning planet.
Tuesday, November 8, 2022
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12/18/2025 5:50:16 PM # 1.0.0
