All The Griefs Poem by Satish Verma

The mysterious rival:
suffering of resignation.
I am reading myself for the surrealism of life,
juxtaposition of love and hate.
Another blast went off.


White rose and black rose in the same
garland; ruins of truth
were older than lies. Humiliation
brings another crop of mines.
Must keep the walk on cinders alive.

Raging moon will rise again
on the blue lake, with earthly whiteness.
The distant invite of future makes the present
sustainable. I will ask the infant sun
to enter slowly.