Battle For Madness
I see it coming
the end before the beginning.
Of dawn.
The midnight call.
Impeachment was fragile.
A satanic cult
overwhelms the freedom
of negation.
Do yoy think we can
move the tree of wisdom
from the altar of ethics
sending shots to the sky.
From the grief of paradoxes
Can you run away? One
moment you exhibit the caked blood.
Next moment it is dark.
•
Standing on crossroad,
do we end the walk
and wait for rumbling
surge of anarchy?
The anguish is writ
large on the tanned sun
who was moving along with
porcupines.
The wild berries
have colored the skull caps.
Swarms of red ants
are running behind the heels.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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