Below is the poem entitled WRENCHING which was written by poet
Verma. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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The crisis starts boiling
about the invisible foes.
The contraptions hope to recapture
Harsh, arrogant and ritualistic.
In the stark nudity of silence
a wooden Buddha lies on the
“ I am not happy, I am not happy.
Why were you still a virgin ?”
White butterflies will not sit
on jasmines to lose their script.
There was a black moon to chase
the fugitive. There will be no midnight
sun. Between lips and cups
the grey fox had lighted a lamp.