THIS EVIL

Written by satishverma

April 30, 2008

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Yes, I can see,

I was becoming my father

like the return of sanity,

a lone voice

in Armageddon,

when you feel the guilt.

You say the evil

was crawling everywhere

beyond the eyes and ears.

The trees, the houses, the wombs,

the art, the perfection

crumbling in thick fog.

May be nothing was left for harvesting

in life. Small seeds saved in your

butting pocket, blood smeared,

will bring the rains one day –

and I will meet my counterpart

in the battlefield.

SATISH VERMA

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Comment by renu rakheja on 30 April, 2008 @ 12:00 pm

Last stanza is outstanding….Superb piece,once again !

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