Where A God Sleeps

satishverma

At the end of the day, 
standing before a shut window― 
in fear of power game 
under a cataract of twilight. 

A panther had visited 
again at night in your courtyard― 
to sniff out the 
hidden moons. 

Your ism was on fire. 
Logic gone. The weird neighbors 
had become bedfellows. 

A dirty war will ensue 
between the translation and 
original script, in fake 
and real. 

You slap a drum. Pathos. 
I have reached where I 
did not want to.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 26th, 2019 20:01
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: Sunshinefalling
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