No Questions Poem by Satish Verma
No Questions
Rating: ★1.0
You were trying to become
the truth Can I become a god of stones?
It was a clear faith in Satan.
Who sends the black
magic to turn a man into religion?
I have my own words to translate.
There was a quarrel between
moon and the Bodhi tree. Only the shadow
of the Bo tree bleeds, when you kill the moon.
Saturday, October 9, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: faith,magic,moon,tree
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8/6/2026 11:54:22 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
