Fury Poem by Satish Verma
Fury
While I limp,
a schizo runs parallel with the moon.
Climbs the hill
to sort out the night. Terror.
The shadows were fighting. The lost innocence.
Delta was forked, dividing the pain. Sensuous
bliss rising, falling.
Where will you go now? Billions of planets wait for your arrival. Einstein
was calling you again.
The shards of moon were waterborn
reflecting in your eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 7:55:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
bliss rising, falling, good writing, thanks sir.