On Burning Coals - Poem by Satish Verma
Loneliness of non-being and,
reality, fill up the vessel.
I search for the eloquence while,
emptiness will be my forte.
Countless words are crossing
like a promise in milk-white days
I gather sunlight through grass leaves.
Life had been full of shadows,
the tapestry of love.
The descent was steep.
Coming home I found
no humming words.
Sitting in dark
I wait for shooting stars.
Measuring the blood, drawn from our hurts
was a royal reward
for your fingers.
You are allowed to compare blood
with brown coffee.
Sand in our eyes,
we walked bare-foot
on burning coals.
Comments about On Burning Coals by Satish Verma
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You