Lipreading
Overdriving
the silence in zero light,
flickers of sickle moon were
fading.
There was a conflict between
reason and
conscience. My father was
smiling.
Where was the gold, he asked
walking with his wooden-
stick in jungle of tears ?
I kept the door ajar.
A smoke engulfs my eyes.
Before he died, he took
a promise from me.
I would not be visible.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment