THE END

satishverma

Lines on forehead are deepening. 
No signs of abatement 
of fire in our bellies. 

The hunger we inherited 
is only comforting 
the mouthless. 

Broken laughs. 
Strange bedfellows 
chopping off the murals from the lips. 

A body rots, 
stinks. 
Maggots fly. 

Negotiations are still on. 
Who will dissect the legend 
to find the cause of death? 

Like a clay model, a soldier breaks.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 22nd, 2013 22:28
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 36
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • baj-a

    your poetry always has a deep impact. always profound. that last line is really strong!



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.