Existential Plight Poem by Satish Verma
Existential Plight
Will not put any claim.
Neonate my poem
has gone gray.
Black days and white
nights.I will recall my
ghost and ask, O god-
do you exist anywhere?
A thread of pain, makes
a family of feet, climbing
in smoke.
Vulnerable to theft, my
thoughts divert me towards
cemetery, where I will
bury my sins.
You remained a question
for me on calender date.I
will hold on the time,
which has thrown me back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 6:02:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
