When You Had Left Poem by Satish Verma
When You Had Left
I could not mediate.
God died in my home. Osho
was talking brazenly?
What you are, I
ask myself. The sleeping
moon knows my falls.
Who unmade the
beautiful dream of a
stricken angel's rise?
Monday, October 7, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/4/2024 8:22:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
