Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
You are putting
stones in empty coffin.
It may harbor the ―
methane after the tribal savagery.

The internal search
still goes on to find the
abode of no-gods.

This grief of burying
yourself in deep freeze like
a mammoth to―
be found later as an ecstasy.

How do you count the heads―
that will not say―
any prayers now, without
the bodies?

You can walk the rest of miles in universal pain.
Written by
Satsih Verma
119
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems