Theme: Life

The Next Wall

The whispering voices 
laid down the arms on the skull of the leader, 
father of pain, then asked the guns to fire 
a last volley towards home 

Targeting the prudence of fingernails 
who crossed the gap 
seventy thousand years ago, 
the progenitors with exposed genitalia: 

The dead man’s mouth was full of 
secrets, my god, they were frozen pistons 
of sugar, face bloated of pride, 
absolutely white, 

The skin had been very kind 
a pink shade of poetry, you deliver 
a rose for unnamed soldier 
I break the windows and mirrors


More By  :  Satish Verma

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