Why Roots Are Dying? Poem by Satish Verma
Why Roots Are Dying?
My descendents would
be my poems to see the mad world
and complain to the unknown almighty.
When I walk on the
cinders, your flames would be faithful.
Words have become immigrants.
The spectators want to
shut their eyes. Curare will take the
responsibility to clean the floor.
Saturday, October 29, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: almighty
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8/8/2026 10:57:41 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
