Eternal Wait
Fear of becoming sane
inherits the hate of earth.
I wake up in the rains of time.
Fire of soul
extracts the thought shapes
like stark naked truth
in the desert of pain –
unbirthing the child of wisdom.
I hardly think, in my failures.
The house will go up in blaze
by the earthen lamp of fading glory.
There was no light, a quick death
of lips and speech. The human touch-
prints had avenged for words.
Inspiration will wait.
SATISH VERMA
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
