This overwhelming emptiness:
something to present allegorical, figuratively,
which is not here. Vultures were coming back.
A stimulating dialogue must start
to release the hostages of unknown fears.
The menacing fog was towering over statements.
Everything was turning into coal and the smoke
was streaming from the oasis.
Where we were on the impounded road
unstuck after ethnic cleansing?
The jealous blood was coloring the greed
on the cold shoulders of priested bluff.
The beast loses the domination, bread
and milk of drifting poor. In glass house the
clouds were entering. The dissecting table
was ready to nail the sea of hate.
Satish Verma
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: September 16th, 2012 22:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
Offline)
Comments1
Do you think the day will come, when people will see that there is no need to search from an empty table?
I like this poem, it makes me see the seed of change is moving.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.