A Renaissance Poem by Satish Verma
A Renaissance
Infidelity knows
how to make fire. Shared
truth carries a tiny coffin.
Under the god's
tree I pray for you. Life will
not see the face of black moon.
The nudity of sun
hurts. The distance cannot
be reduced in blue pain.
Between why and
how lies the primordial
question. Where the truth lives?
Roll me over on
burning coals. The stones
were not able to break mirror.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/9/2025 4:01:20 PM # 1.0.0
