Uprising
Empty hands were trying to collate
the fallout after the trigger moment
invited the unwelcome guest
wearing explosive vest.
It gives a push to throw away the paper
and I walk up to the ink for a
new chapter. The squinting sun was
not able to break the stoic silence of adoration.
A pervasive ambition spreads out
on the breads of poor dreams.
Pay no attention, pay no respect to the falling
patriach. Daughters of broken stars were rising.
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.
