Theme: Life


Crisp and tight, a parallel voice 
of black stars talks to sky, protesting 
the presence of ultimate outsider, when 
everybody was a partner of collective 
guilt in nightscape. 

What was the center of fight in elite 
members? The unhindered ego or claim 
of bland crumbs of authority? The innocents 
so many, on streets, surrounding a red 
smudge, liberty, watching her personification, who 
sleeps here! 

Whom it burns? As the blood spurts 
from the chest of a white stone. 

(Poem written on the death of Neda Agha Soltan in Tehran on 20th June 09)


More By  :  Satish Verma

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