A fear stalks you
in the dead city of broken paths.
If god wills.
Listening to truth in golden dawn
you become a stranger.
Where you want to stand
between far-right
and far-left?
I relapse into grief.
Who was not a god….?
Between you and me
what was missing?
Brotherhood?
The silence was heavily
pregnant. No one speaks.
Give me a chance
to look at me.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 28th, 2019 19:53
- Category: Nature
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
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