The Blunt Clashes Poem by Satish Verma

The Blunt Clashes



The fractured core,
a broken faith, there was
no life after death.

The colossus was drowned
in white, stunning
the men in black.

You cannot encircle
the sun-spots with
bare dogmas.

The tear's salt is found
scrapped on lips, will not
find a place to sink.

How deep you will go
in the tattoos? The sun
wanted to check in the dementia.

Thursday, October 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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