Editor's Choice
Theme: Life

In The Intermittent Love

The eerie exodus of rage
from crashing domes
was the collective wisdom.
A complete thought
walked with me like a shadow.
The long journey for truth demanded clarity.

Life had not been fair,
path of death was endless.
The body poem from the sad and gentle portrait
crossed the line, became a sculpture.

My silver verse died.
I was courting a white-washed city.
The book of sorrow levitates,
Someday I will face the artist.
Sleepwalking I start.

Waking to your name, history was unmade.
My breath went heavier, and my steps emptier.
The metaphors didn’t kiss my innovations.
In the intermittent love, hate was the topic.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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