Satish Verma (5-6-1935)
A felled tear reflects the rainbow.
I wait for the night.
Moon had promised an audience.
Yes, I will sit beside the moon,
will tell the woes of earth, uncomplaining:
the heat, the dust, the life needles
and expressionless faces of trembling
angels. The heroes were disrobing and
attacking the pyramids of undoing.
I sweat and reel in chilly mornings.
A primitive instinct takes over the
nightmare. The spoons become the swords.
Comments about this poem (CONFERRED GUILT by Satish Verma )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley