Poetry

Satish Verma


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11 march 2022

Waiting For New Year

A lengthy day
to count an arch of colored dreams
in a long queue.

You start sinking
inch by inch, in a deep
obsession of vengeance.

Afraid to leave
the darkness. Cannot see
in the bright glare of sun.


The fall of liberty.
To tell the name of venoms.
How the man has become
a poisonous creep.

An insult to the poet,
singer and artist. Who was
responsible for changing the guards?

Tomorrow was far off.
I am still struggling with today.






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