Of Heaven AsideA Poem by Satish VermaThe intimate god, versus the body of slain faith,
The intimate god,
versus the body of slain faith, was not ready to bring in the rains. What quality was the substance in shadows, while you were reigniting the inquest? The space was shrinking noiselessly. The nest― was crowded. You would not place your frame on the wall. This happened, which was, not supposed to happen. The eyes don't blink. You are looking straight in the glass of elegy. Why coming and going of a name should affect the masses? © 2019 Satish Verma |
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