The disaster had come
to the fore. In harm's way
stargazing was coming―
to an end.
A monster like a hurricane
starts pounding my
poems. The dry ice will
not quench my thrist.
A mid-gender approach
will not differentiate between
noun and pronoun.
The myth of waiting
and reincarnation had
patisan attitude. I am
tired of the make-up beliefs.
You cannot reverse
the clock. Time moves on,
devastating the palaces.
Only the broken pillars
stand in deserts of life.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: March 1st, 2021 20:49
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.