A Life's Worth

satishverma

The brown dust―
floats, while reading
poetry.

It was my first―
love with the dancing words
in the jungle of departures.

The genocide of―
reliefs. I erect a shrine
for the slaughter of unknown.

Innocently, I utter―
your name in dark, that
lights up the aubade.

Strange things happen.
I stand where the roads don't cross
parting the emptiness.

The deadpan. Another city falls.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 16th, 2022 22:16
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 18
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    and from the fall, a new flower: Buds
    and they shall name her, Addis Ababa
    till, that next weed of destruction
    finds her
    that unamusing
    cyclical duality, in Universe's callous Nature...



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