23 september 2019

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

Beyond The Stars

Coming from the dark―
to deceptive bloodletting.
The light was my father.
 
That eternal moment
of pine cone―
to become the third eye.
 
The ancient memory
becomes vandalized. I
still treat it with respect.
 
The unclaimed truth was
yours. I wanted to retrieve
the spoken word.
 
Incongruously brazen
was your thrust, exhorting
me to drown.

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