Apocalyptic Poem by Satish Verma
Apocalyptic
A lone tree
waits.
The song of
flames.Dib. dub.
Dub, dib.
The ocean was
rising. Make a wall
of tears.
Nobody would
listen to the―
rage of earth.
Brown men still
drink tea.
A lone tree
waits.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/2/2024 1:57:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
