Satish Verma

Becoming something from anything 
was a great bliss of paradigm. 
I take a dip in anonymity. 

You will never know, 
where you will start a rough patch 
on the road? 

A prehistoric site could not outlive 
the humiliation of proximity to hate. 
Violence chewed the dust. 

My knees give way to anguish of morality; 
horror of captivity of dawn. 
The eyes are going to collapse in endless night. 

Tapping of kernel in hand, shell of truth bothers you, 
like a mountain dew under the stone. 
I will destroy the anxiety of grass. 

Death of desire may take place. 
Fragrance still devastates the moon.