To The Bronze SculptureA Poem by Satish VermaWithout narrating yourself, when and how
Without narrating
yourself, when and how will you perform the ritual suicide? Blindfolded, I open the destiny of man. Your thoughts make a hole in the giant feet. Who would let me, be dark, to find the light of truth? O God, take me to wilderness to embark on my journey back, or become a tree man. Let the tree-hugging start again. Very prudently, I need to color my eyes. Don't want you to begin crying. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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