Like Casabianca Poem by Satish Verma
Like Casabianca
Studying the life at random I met,
naked believers. A narcissist catches
crescendo. I step in to confess my fault.
What was the truth?
The dreams have become impersonal.
I was busy creating mythic metaphors.
The night birds dispense
the autography to define self in dark.
Light will not fall on blinking eyes.
Sunday, January 17, 2021
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9/2/2025 11:19:13 PM # 1.0.0
