The messenger knocks
on the door, in control of the message.
''Are you ready for self-questioning?''
Digression begins. The
red rains start, with noises. Any hand
of god touches the shoulder of the betrayal.
My last toast spills. I
wait for the waning sun to
enshrine my tabled memories.
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...