The Gift Of Abandonment Poem by Satish Verma
The Gift Of Abandonment
The fantasy:
of moving in a circle,
taking a flower bath. A metaphysical
misquote. You were losing
your identity.
There was no abstract folly.
I will protect all the concrete truths.
To find a lover in the woods.
Fighting my demons
I start a circuitry of unborn vows.
The onslaughts continue.
Night comes with all its glory
to torment me, in absence of moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/5/2026 1:08:25 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
