Riveting

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Absolutely sapped out 
I will unfurl 
my flag today. 

It was a raw wound 
of nuanced statements in dark 
when the moon fell in lake. 

Talking to butterflies 
as I take on the genre 
of brainstormed hibiscuses. 

It rained again in my 
courtyard, wetting the 
marbles and my eyes. 

Take away the roof from 
over my head. I have 
come to meet the frozen tears. 

The enormous guilt now 
haunts the vacant eyes, why I didnot 
accept the voluptuous breast of death.