Claim For Fame
The journey is brutal when you arrive nowhere
striving for unsaid perfection.
Life drips. Your wounds snap the love.
A tale becomes a twister.
Between the blinds is buried, the window. In dark
a depression fills the room.
The untethered loneliness.
Fearing from self.
A time to become insane without anchorage.
My ruined book becomes a home for spiders.
Bewildered dreams rise like vampires from the skull.
I will not mourn the body.
The spirit walks like the white light.
It was a thwarted desire, to die empty-handed
beside the troubled mind.
Was there a path to truth?
Being, what lies are?
The soul rustling the shadows of mortal thoughts.
The tree finally gives up
the claim for fame.
The roots squirm.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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