Satish Verma

Gold Star - 42,498 Points (5-6-1935)

Old Maxims - Poem by Satish Verma

This was a twisted ladder
for reduction of poverty,
which climbs the steps during
methane breach.

An absent presence will
snatch away, your unconscious
surrender. The scent had
made a wall of its own.

A summer fall incites the
book makers. The naming was
a secret bet. The dead will
never recall the skeletons.

Spawning an army of robots,
will you go to the volcano mount
to offer a living bait?

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

Comments about Old Maxims by Satish Verma

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 12, 2016

[Report Error]