A Future Waits

Do not give credence to mundanity. An iconic black night was getting ready to welcome Venus. A storm was raging inside, vandalizing the secrets of the house, uprooting the doors and windows. The whole life was at stake. Shrinking the head of foes, you start eating the live insects. But the truth was escaping from your lips. My poem drop the seeds, for the unborn children of violence. I dedicate a book for the other me, as I near the crossroads of uncertainty. Satish Verma