An empty chair in a
muffled day, starts
a self-import and
falters on steps.
You need the fear, to
strike back, when the
returns with a ghost.
The discount will substract
from the truth. I will
find the zero at the
end of lies.
Will I concede to the
barter? Let me first taste
the bitterness of victory,
become drunk on your hate.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Superstitions by Satish Verma )
- The Search For Peace, david kush
- Without It Questioned, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Bane of Attraction, Anthony Edmond John
- Wandersong, Neil Kennett
- Open Me Up, I'm Present, Luva Boy
- The Poem, Neil Kennett
- Arrival of Fall, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- I Want You Woman, Luva Boy
- Almost A White Horse, mary douglas
- The Tall Ride, Tirupathi Chandrupatla