Rolling Stones Poem by Satish Verma
Rolling Stones
Between the sun and moon
you come to transcend
the frescoes on the sky
for a lost chance.
It fuels the anxiety.
When do I meet you
in dark to explore the
lightning rod.
The inside enemy will
allude to self-immolation.
Where will end the
agony of man?
The carnage continues
unabated. The crowds are thinning.
Lurking men on fimbriae dump the veils.
Who will invite them today?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 11:53:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
