Last Freedom Poem by Satish Verma
Last Freedom
Nurturing,
a leaker on the prowl,
to become glamorous
killer.
The parting,
of ways in a jungle of
principles, life takes
a full turn,
sharply. The ascension
of dark matter,
believes: it’s time has come
to engulf the world.
Realization,
comes very late in acute
labour pains, throwing
up the agenda.
Taking a call
of inevitable, the
dignity holds on to
the fringes of peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 10:01:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Truly, realization comes very late as at the call of the inevitable