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Satsih Verma
Poems
Feb 2018
Falling Rubble
Numerical death
walks quietly in the ruins
of hubris and pride.
The neostrength of
the grass, goes for some aberration.
Wind stops at the gate of unknown.
It was not your fault.
We all were responsible
for the fall of grace.
The calculus of the rubble,
would not tell aboutβ
the last words of fallen hero.
It imperils my belief,
when you wear a brace toβ
tell the truth in dark.
#life
Written by
Satsih Verma
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98
Angel-like rain castle
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