Walking Wilderness


It crashed like a chandelier
my dream.
Becoming wet, into unhealing existence.
I was expecting a landfall
by burst of flames.

Grieving for a lost generation,
a meaningless exit from the stage
of bites and suffering.
Can you reverse this idea
of rebirth in the land of nobodies?

That prison inside will not release
the doves and I was expanding
in the vaulted dome of violence
to discover the wait of a happening
to arrive

Submitted by Satish Verma.

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