From The End

Satish Verma

Hard and brittle, 
the cost of sealing the lips 
was increasing overnight. 

Cleaving the thoughts― 
you would not tell, 
what do you believe. 

I watch in horror. A 
planned trajectory has 
failed, shielding the tears. 

A furore rises. Half― 
humans were fighting 
with stones. 

It will talk, one day 
the agony of deathmask, 
you did not want to wear.