Satish Verma

Unfolding the dark night, 
quarter moon shrinks 
The bitterness of the day, 
cave weird taste, 
burning the tongue. 
You didn’t want to live, 
anymore. Roots lopsided, 
starved. Age, language slashed, 
mist rising. Names in the dust. 

The ending was not there 
sorrow burnt like candle 
burning the meaningless words, 
dreams, I hear the silent whispers 
of wounds of faltering steps, 
doubting the pain. Beyond 
the age tales were endless. 
Watching became a problem. 

Nothing could be redeemed 
by choice. I wanted 
endless journey to find 
the windows. long steps 
towards immovable cliffs, 
my own version of anonymity 
and grace. Because glorification 
has started the fear, 
the escape and suffering.