Endless, this was a
romantic murder, in the orchard
of berries blue, black and red.
The prophets will not
return. I will carry fireflies in
my folded hands for the rival darkness.
The pain deepens. Community
was disintegrating. Newborn words
try to overrun. I look at the stars.
YOU ARE READING
Satish Verma Poems
PoetrySatish Verma is ferociously original. You feel resentment, outrage and violence, cannot pin it down but wonderfully spin your brain. Satish has the greatest sensibility which sweetly exploits the delicacies of human conflicts. You are taken aback. T...
