Collecting The Relics

Collecting The Relics

A Poem by Satish Verma
"

Collecting The Relics

"
Predicted to fall.
Man battling against his
demonic spirits.

A killer silence
becomes a knife. Slicing your thumb.

You want to invoke
the missing gods, sleeping
under the dams.

No one should bring
me to tears. I disapprove
the color of blood.

My bones are becoming
stronger, without flesh. I walk
without legs on the hills of fog.

Do not throw the
acid on moon. Hands
will do.

You cannot pass through
a ring of fire. Bonding fails.

© 2020 Satish Verma


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Added on December 28, 2020
Last Updated on December 28, 2020
Tags: Collecting The Relics