He

Walked into the sun,
He. With weak flesh.
A storm was raging on burning sands.

In hollow of his knees
gravel was hitting hard.
He moved onwards in trance

Visionary, homeless, life in open
was blessing.
A huge crowd followed him, voiceless..

Hushed silence breaks the dam.
Valley of timbers was ready to receive the blood,
from epicenter, from fields.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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