Voiceless AssaultsA Poem by Satish VermaYou are waiting amid fears. The fretting
You are waiting
amid fears. The fretting does not end. At where, the road ends? To find a blue star where do we go? The house was sleeping in fog. Inside the dome, hooves, quiver. I have to become mute. Time was black, my song blue. A pure crime. The vultures come in cloaks to take away the lamb. © 2017 Satish Verma |
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