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Theme: Life Share This Page
The Socratic Existence
by Satish Verma
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The evening wind tapped me on the shoulder
gently and said:
“Clouds will talk to you now”
I turned around, looked up at the sky
and drops filled my eyes.

Daily I was drinking hemlock
to understand my ignorance of virtue.
He is gone, but I want to feel the ascending
paralysis, a tincture that is called poison.

For the sake of others, below the faith
lies the pain concealed.
My cup is full. It spills on the soul
and I grieve for the defiled truth.
 

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August 24, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
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