Horror, how big it was?
Watching the dead bodies floating on
the river. A voice screams. Dearth said mercy.
Looking at the truth of
pain, the end smiles. Then who killed
oneself? Right to kill was not religion.
What can be the last wish
of a stone buried in the grave of a
resuscitated angel after the death?
YOU ARE READING
Satish Verma Poems
PoetrySatish Verma is ferociously original. You feel resentment, outrage and violence, cannot pin it down but wonderfully spin your brain. Satish has the greatest sensibility which sweetly exploits the delicacies of human conflicts. You are taken aback. T...