Small Mercies

satishverma

Who were the derivatives

of hate? When the
counting began, your name
was not there.

Under siege, I was
your prayer. Picking pieces
of violence I went insane.

The wolf climbs
in the last phase of moon.
I was scared to lose you.
Sounds of betrayal were loud.

The human chain caves in,
under brutality of sins.
Nobody was correct in
congratulatory smokes.

It is a slow poisonous
march. We are eating
ourselves like reptiles.
The parasites, would
never go hungry.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 16th, 2021 19:24
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 12
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Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    yup, I too despair
    commentary poetry at its insightful best,
    'congratulatory smokes' indeed



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