Portrait Of Love Poem by Satish Verma
Portrait Of Love
I can talk to myself
only. The world was deaf. I have
got you again to dispose of life.
First I will write
for you. They burn the dome. The
smoke will tell the fall of the leader.
The essence will drop
the names. Who has made everyone
a snake. We all are distributed.
Thursday, August 1, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: life,snake
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8/30/2026 1:12:59 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
