Unburned Houses

Satish Verma

Once you are labeled, 
The human input is out and 
you start falling apart. 

My home, and I am trying 
to set the walls free after― 
the explosion. 

A sinkhole eats you alive. 
I am walking in air 
contending with the old god 
who would not listen. 

Suddenly it is time to 
back drive. The wrong road 
taken has given in glimpse 
of people starting the war. 

The land becomes black 
and paper lanterns adorn the doors.