Siblings <br />will take care of the morgue. <br />I am going to hang my god <br />today. Howling winds <br />are crashing into my breath. <br /> <br /> <br />In the sea <br />of flags, the white death walks on <br />naked bodies of faith. Innocence <br />will take a back seat <br />listening to the roaring assault <br />of blues. <br /> <br />Was it a hymn to drink <br />the religion of rage? <br />The men sitting in the glass vases <br />worshiping the rising sun in awe <br />with folded hands.<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/raging-spring/
