Walked into the sun, 
He. With weak flesh. 
A storm was raging on burning sands. 

In hollow of his knees 
gravel was hitting hard. 
He moved onwards in trance 

Visionary, homeless, life in open 
was blessing. 
A huge crowd followed him, voiceless.. 

Hushed silence breaks the dam. 
Valley of timbers was ready to receive the blood, 
from epicenter, from fields.

Satish Verma


  • diamonddagger

    Wow! very power packed poem. I felt as though I were reading about a prophet. Well written as usual.

  • baj-a

    I have to agree with everything diamonddager said. this is another wow! poem.

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