4 marca 2013

poezja

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

LISTENING

They walk in dreams
nightmarishly
spirits of nameless faces
staring without eyes.

The screams:
of a child
on whom you poured boiling water.

The screams:
of a girl made to wear only flesh, because
she ran away with a priest.


The screams:
of a wipped woman
who tasted the laughing moonlight.

Death makes a big hole
in a spooky silence!
Are you listening?


Satish Verma

David de la Croes
4 marca 2013 o 11:14

Good poem. Sometimes we want to close our ears to these screams, because they are part of a living nightmare...

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