Theme: Life


The wind writes a name on the clouds
and sun wipes out the letters.
This game continues daily.
coming into life after every death. 

Exhausted I want to believe
and make up my mind to go
for a new birth. 

The resentment has accumulated
all the life
against the futility of winning a race.
In the end you reach no where. 

A void impossible to fill.
The years monitored, lay waste
something to die.


More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1411     Comments: 0

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