Marking The Graves - Poem by Satish Verma
in voyage of tears, birthing
If art of communicating was
via testosterone, why
did you land on water?
Mongrels were increasing,
dirtying the road.
Greif multiplies. Hate was ingrained
in faith. The arithmetic goes wrong.
Landscape stays. Moon moves on.
Why red roses were
dying in your land? Tell me
angel, tell me.
The rage insults me. Who
was perfect in the crowd?
Do I ask the god?
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
William Ernest Henley
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night