Peace at stake,
Withdrawal of rubber dolls
playing with fire.
Empty bowls in lunar month.
Concords were flying very high
noiselessly crossing the peaks
of great grudges.
Pure golden hair –
It really was miracle.
Bald eagle was waiting.
Enough time to steer a murder.
The irresistable desire
to rub with a paranoid.
Extracting a genius from mediocre genera.
Life had become too genteel.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (CONCORDIA by Satish Verma )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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