Why Not? Poem by Satish Verma
Why Not?
Are you there, I would
say to my conscience?
A perfect faulted future
was the vision.
The ragged present
depicts the cold murder of
the dream land.
I do not want to
interfere with the past. You paint
the god as the victim.
Lithesome, pure as milk
your words flow―
from the steaming eyes.
Do we take a side
with violence and axe, and
keep on beheading the
dynasty?
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5/6/2024 11:02:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
