satishverma

Battered Faith



Deserting a shrine, in the swirling 
waters, I move, unbuilding 
a path, under the shade of the moon. the 
sprawling village has been swept off/and 
so were the ponyriders; 
a lifeless symphony of howling winds/ 
scatters the silence. 

I step forward to meet the vapors 
of after death./The souls are dead/ 
and the ghosts are walking in dark. 
No ignition was left to recognize the faces. 
No god was seen nearby. 

I am at loss to make the return journey. 
A boulder as big as the temple/ 
obstructs the view. There are moaning 
voices/coming from under the sunk 
houses. Why won’t the unseen hands/build 
up a bridge. I eat your words 
and go in trance. 

Where are the bottle’s jinnees now?

Comments1

  • abstractempo

    Very stark. An accurate read for today's feel. Thank you for the vocab.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.