Cup Of Sorrow

Satish Verma

A solitary moon rises 
behind the seven veils 
unattended by stars and clouds 
between yes and no 
desiring nothing 
turns back through the centuries. 

The religion to kill 
refuses to stare at the tainted fatality 
lying sprawled on the burdened earth 
splattered red. 
Criminal divinity of the blood 
bares the undone creation. 

Seed money comes again 
into dead bubble. 
Cup of sorrow is filled again.