There were subtle declines, 
still I opted for incompleteness. 

A fierce battle was raging. 
I think to start my descent 

in roofless castle of mania 
to watch the self-destruction of a landscape. 

Thousands were squatting on mud tracks. 
till the dead rise from their ice beds. 

Ghostly hands were building the fire 
to send the rivers in exile. 

Hunger will decide the fate of the earth. 
Man was playing with the sands.

Satish Verma


  • baj-a

    the entire poem is filled with truth but the last two lines are the truest of all! we do play in sand and yes, it will be hunger that decides the fate of the earth. always inspired by your poetry.

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