Satish Verma > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

A visible evil stands upright. I did not want to

This is for the smaller gods sitting This is for the smaller gods sitting

How much you can carry, carving a deep gorge during last rites

How much you were honest with you? How much you were honest with you? How much you were honest with you?

There was a road to landslips. Why would the mountain break

It tumbles down. The real. Heels start hurting.

In black midnight, the white moon, like a nun sits stonely.

After the blast, the morning gets wise, and

Shedding the knowledge I was aware of emptiness,

I do not remain happy with noises of wisdom.