Sin and Prayer
I am pulling out from the committed
sin, cadaver walking,
digging the gold from the pit.
Footwears of dead men were
heaped into a pile when
god was praying.
Was it a perceived tragedy
of a man drawing doodles
to offset the sunset ?
You were alone, dousing
the fire and shaping the clay. The
hamlet was less inclined to intercede.
Your flesh slips from my hands
for a rebirth. I was flying a kite.
I was dead before you were born again.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
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