Singularity Poem by Satish Verma
Singularity
Rating: ★4.0
The horses run like―
tiny dots, on horizon, to
meet inevitable.
A celestial dance
ensues for skulls uncapped
to hear the echoes.
How far was the house
of god, where you will receive
the revelation?
My tribe was hurt. I
cannot stand indeterminate
end of the slaughter.
Friday, April 28, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 2:23:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
