Unseeking Poem by Satish Verma
Unseeking
It was darkest
night, when truth died.
Who will move the first step?
Rocks were older
than man. Don't throw the stones
on real roses. They bleed.
Ghosts were collecting
the black bones of peers.
They had long arms.
Don't ape my suffering.
I am always hurt on small
things. Weather is changing.
The contrast is deep.
Wash your hands before touching
the goddess. She smiles in sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/17/2024 7:00:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Dark and complex as your Quill tends to profusely bleed but the is born of the innerwirkings of a most creative Minds eye... Most mercurial you still be after all these years behind us... Behind old thoughts... Before the best to come... judgement hath no poetic justice, Satish...thus, we see our seeds with dragons teeth and God's good promise of all that's ripe in His Ever Garden, where I must believe that poetry doth exist.