Wasteland Heart 

I enter a gap 
In history
Created now.   
My knowledge is flickering
But the source of water 
Hasn’t dried. 
I tried to sleep
And keep telling myself 
That a glorious morning will arise 
The debris of human archetype 
Haunts the scripts of future 
When war interrupts 
The divine madness 
Of possible literary beings. 
Humanism can soothe the pain.  
I fire my words
To reach in pearls 
That can glitter in the bosom 
Of wasteland heart. 
I know not 
About hopeless optimism, 
Instead I long for 
Which is my messiah symbol? 
© Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal 
Photo Nick Victor








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