The Contest Poem by Satish Verma
The Contest
My deep anguish
simmers. Why the man
betrays himself and
starts eating the kin?
Like a venomous snake.
It was difficult
to stay normal in the
jungle of players
to become a ruthless sovereign.
The time gap,
space― the distance between
the hearts remains intact.
You start breaking up.
You lock the words
of charity, and become a clown,
moon-skilled
reciting dead hymns
in praise of a no-god.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/25/2024 11:17:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
