The Land Pulls Poem by Satish Verma
The Land Pulls
Dying was not worth
living. Your journey
starts for unknown.
Why were you fixated to
watch the small men―
milk the moon?
It was very expensive to
buy a decent death.
Religion makes it dirty.
Do you remember the myth
of Sisyphus? I love to
carry my rock without a face.
Not quality of life. It
was a matter of degrees
when you feel liberated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/23/2024 2:03:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
