Beyond the river
I will meet you one day
as a castaway.

Gently a mystery
resolves. You were my
half-being, uncensored by
quirk of fate.

That was the lost
innocence of a fakir,
who left the palace to
encounter the god.

Nothing to hold on;
the empty boat crashes
at the bank.

You were going to
become a father of unborn
progeny, which will discard
you at the end.

All the white lies had become
black truths.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 24th, 2021 22:23
  • Category: Nature
  • Views:
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.


  • L. B. Mek

    'All the white lies had become
    black truths.'

  • Trenz Pruca

    What a powerful closing line.

  • WriteRaw

    To be discarded alone is a crime. This was a great read. I loved the flow of the poem.

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