Satish Verma

Standing on a cliff 
holding the hand of a tall tree 
the wind said – 
I am going to die in few minutes. 
Moon was laughing. 

In elements of air and fire 
a deity was in burns. 
Who had the déjà vu? 
Sky was wearing white. 
A divine mushroom was going to fail. 

A purple wart is growing 
along the innocent neck. 
The colossal death of hungry strangers 
is going to go in waste. 
“Being” was truth, but conditioned to lies. 

King was wearing an amethyst 
watching a marathon. 
A single sperm will win 
to enter a paradise, 
for the sake of a celibate.